


Tip Jar

by jubilee_jawz, maireeps



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Cam Boy AU, Clothed Sex, Codenames, Dancer Lance (Voltron), Doggy Style, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Facials, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Hand Jobs, Hot Tub Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Messy, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Partners to Lovers, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Role Reversal, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sex Work, Texan Keith (Voltron), Top Keith (Voltron), Water Sex, both keith and lance are fucking gorgeous bye forever, but they switch :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-16 04:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubilee_jawz/pseuds/jubilee_jawz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/maireeps/pseuds/maireeps
Summary: His body is a work of art, why not utilize it?-Lance works a side hustle as a cam boy to pay off his tuition, and Keith is just some secret admirer (who happens to share an astronomy class) until Lance mentions the need for a partner.





	1. [00:01:00]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PunnyMcGee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunnyMcGee/gifts).



> welcome to tip jar! we are self indulgent and extremely thirsty  
> dedicated to seabreezy, our wonderful beta!

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

\- [00:01:00] -

* * *

 

College was expensive. Wildly expensive, especially with out-of-state costs. He wanted to get into the dance program at UCLA more than he ever wanted something in his life - and he made it. The issue of cross-country schooling, leaving his family in Miami - his mom with her two part-times - and sure he had a few scholarships, but college is expensive. For all that he hypes himself up - mostly for laughs from his friends at his stupid antics and twin finger guns - he does, admittedly, keep himself smooth, trimmed, and pretty. It seems easy, when he thought about it. He didn’t have the upper arm strength for pole dancing or the network for going straight to professional porn, so why not do it himself?

The scheduling was easy, the promotion was the hard part. Lance couldn’t exactly wander campus handing out business cards with links to his cam show, especially with what popularity he had semi-accumulated in his freshman year. So he made an explicit, preview blog and a promoter twitter, set a show for every few days at 9 p.m. and prayed to his mimi that people would show. It was definitely a confidence booster when more than a few people popped into chat. Way more than a few.

So it was popular; not something he wasn’t used to, and it took a while to settle into. Getting off in front of a few hundred people, that is. When he remembered to use the best angles and pause to ask for tiers to be met, Lance could say he was maybe - sorta - basically made for this. His anonymous fans loved him, turning up in roves of hundreds to chat with him while he set up. They wanted to know him, loved seeing him get off, and fund his education once they knew he was in college. It was both invigorating and flattering.

His phone beeped at nine o’clock. The camera was already propped up, connected to his laptop open on his chair. As he sat down cross-legged on his bedspread, he grinned sultrily, at the camera.

“Hi everyone! I’m Blue. 20 years old, going to college, but most of you know that already so let’s get to the good stuff. First tier is $100 to strip, and as always, the tip jar is open … ”

 

* * *

 

Hours earlier, Keith sat in his classroom staring at the clock, elbow practically sinking into the lecture hall table. It wasn’t even one in the afternoon, but he was antsy for tonight. His knee bounced endlessly under the table, his shit was already packed away in his backpack like always because this class was a breeze. So needless to say, his table neighbors were a bit peeved. Hell if they would say anything to him though, especially when Iverson was lecturing on about the same chapter for the fifth time because none of them understood it.

The clock was moving far too slow for his liking, barely ticking close to 1. Even though he still had plenty of errands to run - like helping Sal deliver move boxes of auto parts into the new garage and hitting the gym - at least being out of class for the day would bring him closer to 9.

 _Ah fuck it,_ he thought. Iverson had just barely started explaining avionics for the second time in the semester when he stood, slung his bag over one shoulder and slid down the lecture hall stairs. He crossed the front of the room to the door, ignoring the glare from Iverson as he turned in his finished assignment as the first of the class, and left early. Sal would appreciate the early help; maybe he’d give him some overtime for the off-shift moving. For all he knew, that would make his workout faster and his arrival home even sooner.

Which was great.

It had happened randomly - coming across Lance McClain on a cam site one boring evening. He was just scrolling, pent up energy and wired head, when he accidentally clicked on the cam tab on Pornhub and there was Lance. Pretty, long limbs of caramel brown and glossy lips, rolling a fist over a hard cock Keith would honestly have never thought he’d see, and bleeding moans together like he was made to star in some beautiful solo porn. It was the better image of Lance, instead of the lanky dance major who sauntered into Astronomy 101, sliding finger guns at Hunk Garrett in the back row every single time. He was annoying, and treated Keith like some weird rival despite the difference in their majors, but surprisingly looked pretty even at 8:30 a.m. in the morning. And sure he followed the soft line of Lance’s ass in yoga leggings lazily every time he got to class just a bit earlier than him, but he never really expected anything out of his absentminded pining.

The cam shows alone were more than he’d ever expected. Lance was some kind of cam star - enough to be on the front page of Pornhub’s live cam section - with a rambunctious chat and an ever climbing number of tips to match the miles of smooth brown legs and curled toes, arching with some crazy flexibility to work fingers in his ass. And Keith, as any gay, hot-blooded, pining piece of shit would, loved it. Every second, from how Lance called himself “Blue” and had a sexy little opening for every show, and how he answered lewd questions mid-swing and tried to stifle louds moans by covering a trembling hand over his mouth.

Keith rolled his car into the lot next to Sal’s, shaking every thought of Lance out of him to avoid a weird situation with his boss, and slid out of his car to the garage. Sure he was a desperate man, but that wouldn’t let him pop a boner on the job when he could be finishing his errands as quick as possible. He immediately went to moving boxes in favor of making rounds to say hello.

The semester had only started about a week ago, and Keith had already been at the mercy of Lance McClain’s popularity and weirdly declared rivalry. Astronomy 101 with Coran was an introductory course, but still vastly populated with mainly STEM majors. When he’d walked in maybe two minutes late on the first day of class to see McClain buttering up to Coran about transferring in, how was he _supposed_ to take that weird glare Lance sent him in stride?

Sue him, he definitely had asked Lance if he forgot where the dance studio was when they had run into each other on the first floor, but Lance didn’t have to immediately act like some god’s gift to astronomy and declare something about watching out for his semester grade. Astronomy 101 was just once a week, yet from the first day of class he had seen McClain at least three times around the campus. Exactly three times more than freshman year when he ran into Lance shitfaced at a thrasher and watched the kid roll tight circles amongst the crowd. His thirst was excruciating until he’d witnessed Lance’s personality firsthand. Then it was just a mild hum in the back of his head, until he saw those cam shows.

The seventh box fit snugly under his arm, the other last two propped on his right palm as he moved them to the garage and placed them down amongst the others. Sal grunted from the back, waving him off as he headed back to his car. He was almost tempted to skip his workout, but knowing Shiro would be there waiting helped him shift his car into gear and pull out of the lot to the campus gym.

The campus gym was the one place he could almost always find his brother. People thought _he_ was a gym rat until they met Shiro. And it was hard not to meet him when Shiro was easily the most requested grad student as a teacher’s aid and lived out of the campus gym like it was his second home. The gym had practically elected the first spot in the parking lot to Shiro’s vibrant Camaro. He pulled in next to Takashi’s car and popped the trunk to pull out his gym bag, tying his hair back as he stepped into the gym. It wasn’t too packed, and the girl at the first desk popped her gum at him. Shiro was doing bench presses, half-waving at him before starting a new set.

Joining Shiro on the floor usually meant too many arm exercises for his liking and a lot of interrogations. Instead he spotted for his brother, careful to help him not put too much strain on his prosthetic, but also grinning shittily at him when Shiro needed just a tiny bit of help to lay the bar back on the rack.

Halfway through his own set, Shiro’s watch beeped six. They usually stayed for hours at the gym, because days where they were both free were few and far between, particularly for Shiro. Shiro sat just away with barbells, half scrolling on his phone. Keith’s mind wandered.

The bar pressed roughly into the palms of his gloves, rolling under the exposed pads of his calloused fingers as he brought it down to hover above his chest. Lance was a dancer, had the body of one and the hips of one, but he was so slim everywhere. Shirts hung from him, exposing collarbone that Keith unwillingly drank up like Lance was his cup of coffee for morning lecture, and not the one that Pidge had tried to draw a dick in the foam exterior.

And shit, maybe it had been a really long week. Curling his arms up to lift the bar, he could almost feel the soft, thin hands of Lance, clumsy slim fingers crawling up his chest, followed by the firm weight of his slender body - _okay shit nope that’s the bar._

“Keith?” Shiro’s hands pulled up the bar just in time, leaving him to catch his breath and pushing himself to sit up. Shiro placed the bar down, opened his mouth to give a lecture on spotting and how he should be careful but instead his brother just kind of raised an eyebrow. “You’re blushing.”

Keith slapped a hand over his face immediately, glaring over his hand at his laughing brother, “Fuck off, no I’m not.”

“I mean, you really are, but whatever,” Shiro snorted, bending back to grab a water bottle from the neck and toss it Keith’s way, “just be careful maybe? So you don’t die again.”

He opted to grunt some affirmation so he could crack the bottle open and chug. Shiro went back to his barbells, Keith sliding over to do push-up and sit-up reps on the mats. Watching sweat drip onto the plastic, he opted to focus on that, content to let the hours slip until the evening rush started and Shiro tapped on him to get going.

The drive back to their place was easy. He didn’t quite live on campus, instead in a small apartment a few blocks away with Shiro. Something about leaving home just to move in with his older brother felt a little childish at first, but he was rarely home anyways because Pidge lived just next door with her older brother Matt. They also had better AC and wifi.

Shiro went straight to the kitchen for his post-gym protein shake, while he went straight to shower. That alone was enough temptation to let his mind wander, but the gym clock had said 8:30 when they left, and that was pushing it. He didn’t even have anything to study - he was so ahead in his classes - so instead he took what last seconds he had to spare and let the water run his long hair down his chin, dripping down to pool at the drain. Keeping his palms on the tile helped, and he rolled his head back to let the hot water run down his adam’s apple and stare at the white bathroom ceiling. After washing, he slid out of the bathroom in just his boxers and a towel around his neck straight to his laptop. He flipped it open, placed it on the end of his sofa bed and tapped into his internet browser at just a minute to nine o’clock.

And just like that -

 

_“- I’m Blue. 20 years old, going to college, but most of you know that already so let’s get to the good stuff. First tier is $100 to strip, and as always, the tip jar is open … ”_

Lance sat perched, long legs lifted and leaned on, smooth and shiny in the low light. It was faded purple in the room resting in the website window. It made the white bedspread highlight the edges of his skin, casting elongating shadows against the length of his sharp cheekbones and long eyelashes. Keith’s hand was already inching down to his boxers, watching how Lance shifted weight on the bed and clicked with a mouse.

 _“Oh we’re getting close,_ ” Lance’s laugh was crystalline, just shy of a giggle, _“‘Are you taking questions?’ Sure, I’ll answer a few - oop there it is.”_

The cream t-shirt was lifted, crossed wrists in front to grip the hem and pulled slow and teasing over Lance’s head. He arched to the camera, all lean skinny meat and golden skin. The curves of his waist, trim with dancer muscles, leading down to small little briefs - Keith was practically salivating at this point. He lazily slid his hand under his own hem, but paused as Lance did.

 _“200 for my underwear,”_ Lance’s hair was ruffled, soft and feathery from stripping his shirt. His eyes were low and dark like he was hungrily staring through the camera, _“...Haha, no, they’re not pokeball-patterned this time… See?”_

Lance stood from the bed, reached to tilt the camera down to capture lower than his waist. The shy abdomen muscles to below his waistband curved, dotted with trimmed silky hair and then he turned, a slow teasing three-sixty to show how exactly tight those briefs were around the trademark Lance McClain perky ass. Keith swore he saw God as he muffled a groan into the towel around his neck, tapping his fingers above his pubic line as he practically twitched in his boxers.

It absolutely didn’t help that Lance immediately rolled his hips to and fro and then plopped down on the bedspread on his knees before turning around to sit down again.

 _“So yeah, definitely not pokeball-patterned - Oh we’re getting close… Why not 300 for some touching, 350 for a toy?”_ Lance gave the camera a pretty little grin and slid his knees apart, slowly sliding against the sheets, almost playfully so. _“Special requests? Oh nothing too extreme - There it is…”_

Lance smiled, stood and hooked his thumbs in his waistband before slowly pulling them down his slim hips and to the floor. The chat immediately dinged with tips, and Lance laughed as he sat down, his soft, pink-toned cock laying against his thighs. _“And there’s both touching and toy - Thank you, everyone…”_ He trailed off, sliding a hand down his stomach to the top of his pubic bone and then back up, rolling hips at air and slowly reaching back to some hidden drawer.

Keith could feel himself start to shake, knees practically weak as he grinded at air with Lance. His was more desperate, watching the betraying pink of Lance’s tip rub softly against his thigh deliciously. Lance turned his hips, just enough to wiggle into the drawer and pulled out a handful of thick toys. A dildo, ribbed and ink black with a strange knot towards the bottom, a bullet, and a wand vibrator, placed on the bedspread between Lance’s open thighs.

 _“Feel free to comment with what you like best,”_ Lance rubbed his hands up his inner thighs, spreading them wider and tilting his head at the chat, _“Top contributor in the next few minutes can choose - Ah, there we go. Thank you ‘R’ for your donation of two-hundred-and-fifty dollars. I’ll absolutely use two for you.”_ Lance winked flirtily, tipping back to replace the wand vibrator with a familiar cherry bottle of lube.

It was so familiar Keith practically jolted, ankles rubbing against his sheets and hips canting up with abandon, stiflingly hard and unattended in his boxers.

Lance dripped lube on his middle and ring fingers, then trailed them wet and shiny down his pubic bone, lifting his knees high to rub his fingers against his pink hole. The touch had Lance gasping, shoulders jolting and breathlessly laughing. _“Cold - Ah,”_ He rolled a finger around his rim, _“Mmm, would be so much easier if I had someone here with me… Aha, that made chat happy…”_

Keith perked his head up from the headboard, glancing at the chat as it burst into waves of questions and requests to be said person. Hey, he didn’t quite blame them. It sounded delicious to be with Lance; to have those supple thighs pressed apart, and to work and prep with his own tongue instead of Lance’s slim fingers.

 _“Oh?”_ Lance nearly gasped, voice high. _“‘Who do you imagine when you get off?’ Thank you for the question… ah,”_ He dipped a finger in, brows knit and bottom lip pulled under his teeth, _“There’s… this one guy in my class.”_

Lance paused to press his fingers to the bedsheets and lace the wire of the bullet vibrator around his thigh, pushing the bullet to the flushed pink tip of his dick and tilting his head to the camera, _“He’s pretty, and has nice forearms… God, and his jawline… A-Aa-ah-”_ He cut off with a jolted moan, tilted his head back to the sheets as the bullet vibrated as a low buzz, fingers rolling smooth against his opening, _“Mm - He could bench press me and I’d be so into it... "_

Keith rolled his hips again, gulping down any hope of controlling himself and pulling down the waistband of his boxers to let his dick free. He rolled fingers down from the tip, gathering leaking precum and pulling down his forearm with two easily wet fingers, tapping his head back against the headboard a few times and stifling his own grunts with the towel.

Lance’s moans were unabashed, loud and pitched and accompanied by the hum of the vibe as he rocked shallowly down on his own fingers. At two fingers, Lance pulled back, hips stuttering in the low light and hair mussed further as he raised his body to the camera and shifted up onto his knees.

“Let’s hit… 700 for my first orgasm of the night,” Lance purred, rolling his head to the side and shifting his hips up to position over the textured dildo.

Keith’s breath hitched, almost choking as Lance slid down, taking the dildo to the knot inch by inch. His knees trembled with Lance’s, heels digging in as Lance rolled his head from side to side and gasped. Then those hips started to rock, moving up and down slowly. Keith felt hot all over, wrist twisting his base and squeezing for pressure. Lance’s pretty cock bobbed as he rode the dildo further, leaking down to the white sheets and his cheeks utterly flushed in pleasure.

_“ - Ah ah, oh god, fuck mm m - ”_

_“‘Biggest I’ve had’? Sadly, none…”_ Lance rolled his hips forward, palms down to the sheets behind him to lift himself up and tilting his head down, bangs fanning over his forehead. _“God, it’d be amazing to - mm - be filled on stream. I’ve - ah- never been fucked before, ah - ”_

Keith’s hand paused, stumbling and hips stalling, flashing his gaze to Lance’s face. Pearly teeth sucked in his bottom lip, rolling his slim hips in circles down against that thick knot and little blue eyes peeking between fanned lashes. Never been fucked.

His own fingers tightened, immediately picking up to match the pace of Lance’s hips again, head swimming with the idea of filling Lance over and over and fucking over. The chat sang praise with a chorus of notification dings, nearly drowned out by Lance’s musical groaning. With one eye peeking up, Lance reached for the remote and shot the camera a soft little smirk. _“Mm, thank you everyone - ah,”_ He caught himself, thumbing up the intensity of the vibrator and faltering as his muscles tightened down, _“Oh g -god, fuck, ah - ”_

“Fuck,” Keith snapped, slamming his back to the headboard and peering down at the laptop, working furiously on his cock, desperate to release but fuck if he wasn’t going to come with Lance. Paint that pretty face with his cum and watch Lance maybe - probably - definitely lick it up and - _shit._

He came hard, thighs twitching and a knee jerked up. Keith breathed heavy, eyebrows knit tightly together, before glancing down to watch the sticky mess dribble down his abdomen and dot his boxers with splatter. Lance’s orgasm was a second after, hips rolling in little tight circles in the browser. He could almost - but not quite - take the knot before he arched out and came in some picturesque silent scream, shooting cum out to the bed sheets before it dribbled on the inside of one smooth thigh. The chat rang in approval and Lance rolled forward, off the dildo, sliding the bullet vibrator off and tossing it somewhere away. Lance panted, heavy and neck relaxed, his limbs visibly weak against the bedspread.

 _“Mm,”_ Lance weakly grinned, fingers sliding up to his disheveled hair. _“What a mess…”_ He rolled up, thighs sliding together to place his toys away and press a towel against the wet spot on the bed. The obscene drip of cum between his thighs shined as he widened them again, dick already twitching back to full length. Lance rolled his hips forward on the sheets, whining low and biting his bottom lip. _“... I guess it’s just one of those extra long nights… Something about that guy in my class. Mm, how about 850 for another toy? This time I’ll choose.”_

And embarrassingly so, Keith was hard again. Dick straining up from his boxer waistband, heavy heat in the room as he watched Lance roll his hips back and forth on the bed and slowly come to full mast. The shine on the inside of his thighs caught light when he rocked forth, already pulling out curved silicone. Lance spread lube thick around the tips, tilting back to hike his legs back up and slowly push in the prostate massager. When he slid it deep, he twitched and shivered almost violently, voice cracking as he moaned.

He rocked forward again, pushing the massager against the bed and grinding, with one hand as leverage while he sucked the fingers of his other. Keith watched his tongue dip between the webbing, licking up the pads and plopping out as he could swirl around his tip with the wet digits. Keith’s thighs clenched, placing down one foot to anchor himself on the bed and nudging his wrist faster, trailing his eyes against the way Lance fondled his own balls and rolled them between his slick fingers.

 _“Ah - mm -”_ Lance’s brows knit flush, one brow lifted higher and soft mouth pursed, _“Hah - I need - fuck - god -”_ Lance’s hand shot out, scrambling in pure desperation and clasping one of the pillows in the far background. He shifted a knee over it immediately, slammed his palms down in front and rocking his hips down and into the pillow over and over, head tilted back and crying out. Keith’s other foot planted itself down immediately, nearly lifting himself off the bed as he frantically rolled his wrist down and up his shaft, beating off nearly in time to Lance’s hasty fucking into the pillow.

Each grind sent Lance’s eyes rolling back, mouth open and lids hooded in pleasure. Some severe cants had Lance’s forearms struggling to hold himself up, tipping forward to roll circles in the pillow and the way his body worked made Keith dizzy. He tightened and rolled his other hand down to squeeze his balls when Lance shot forward with a high little whine and his pink tip, just peeking out of the squished pillow, leaked another heavy load onto the sheets. His head lolled forward, shoulders caved and hips wiggling. Keith came to the delicate flush of the tips of Lance’s ears and slender waistline, and thoughts of how good Lance would look rocking on top of him.

The orgasm was so blinding he had to blink a couple times to reorganize his vision, placing his ass back down on the bed and watching Lance flop off the pillow and pull out the massager. Lance looked loose, his shoulders drooping with an almost dopely pleased look on his face. His cheeks shone red, and smile handsomely crooked. It was definitely not Lance’s post-orgasm face, but his hard orgasm that made his chest burn. Definitely.

 _“...That was, ah, great,”_ Lance reached to roll the muscles of his shoulder under one palm, thighs rubbing together. _“Thank you all for coming. Wow, grand total was high tonight. I’m glad everyone loved it! Make sure to stop by next week at 9 p.m. PST and consider checking out my twitter and blog for updates and more. This has been Blue, signin’ off!”_ Lance reached forward, wide grin paired with a sly little wink before the video went black.

The website started a countdown for the next show, and about a half of the chat immediately left. Keith reached lazily forward and closed his laptop, shoving it to the end of the bed. He plopped his head back to the headboard, tilted up and eyes shut leisurely. His cum was drying against his abs, and made his boxers stick tackily to his thighs, which were pulled low to accommodate his now-soft cock. The burn of his wrist, and roll of his previously tense shoulders ached in the best way, and he idly grinned to the ceiling.

Lance McClain, dance major with a side hustle as a cam boy. Never having fucked a dick before.

He slid his head to the side, eyes opening to glance at his alarm clock, and trying to wipe his mind with the not-so-subtle thought of _damn he could help with that_ when two steps in the hall barely alerted him before the door to his bedroom opened wide and -

“Hey, Keith, what do you want for din -” Takashi glanced up from his phone, gaped as Keith jumped out of his skin and ducked to cover up, before the door slammed right back after his older brother - out as quickly as he came in.

“ _What_ the _fuck_ , Shiro!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys made it? You still alive? 
> 
> Mai's [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	2. [00:02:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know about your cam show.”
> 
> Lance stalled and dropped the book in his hand. He turned his head slowly and a faint smirk danced on Keith’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are every friday! but this is a little early as a gift for such a warm welcome

 

 

 

\- [00:02:00] -

* * *

 

Papers were probably Lance’s least favorite thing and that was exactly what his first assignment was going to be. As much as he loved his minor, papers severely cut into practice time. That was uni for you. Ruefully, once he was released from his astrology class, Lance packed all of his things away and slung his backpack onto his shoulder and trudged towards the library. He was going to have to research time into his schedule since it was an entirely different beast than studying, especially with the preparations needed for his midterm. Sure it was a little early to be thinking about it, but he wanted - no - _needed_ to be ready. He had already partnered up with Allura and together they needed to pick a song and begin their choreography.

 _After_ he gathered the books needed for this damn paper.

Around noon was when most students took their classes, but even then the library was packed and a little more buzzy than Lance would have liked. Students grouped together in the lounge chairs eating their lunches and gossiping. Lance was grateful that he’d reserved a study room that morning. He walked to the checkout desk where a young woman sat with braids piled high atop her head and red glasses. She thumbed through a large text book and her eyes flicked over Lance when he leaned on the counter.

He flashed her a smile before handing over his school ID, “Got a room reserved for a few hours.” The woman went through the motions of checking him into the system before giving him his key. He thanked her before finding his room; number eight sat nestled back in the furthest corner on the library, where he knew he wouldn't be distracted by loud voices and students passing the glass windows. He needed the silence to concentrate, and perhaps to take a small nap before Allura showed up. Lance set his backpack down and stuffed the room key in his pocket. The last thing he wanted was to get locked out _again._

Allura’s classed ended in an hour, which gave him a little time. He wandered through science sections and ran a finger over the spines. He’d opted to focus his paper around black holes. Seemed like an interesting subject but as he walked through the aisle, he noted just how few books the school library had on the subject. Lance sighed heavily at the thought of having to go to another library to search.

More time ripped away from his main focus. _Yay_.

The song changed. _Come here rude boy, boy -_ Rihanna’s unmistakable voice chanted. Lance sucked both lips between his teeth and bopped to the rhythm as he reached up on his toes for a book above his head and read over the cover. _Black Holes_ by Stephen Hawking. Anything from Stephen Hawking should make his paper sound great. He’s supposed to be one of the smartest guys in the world right? Lance shrugged to himself and added to the growing stack in the crook of his arm. Lance went to reach for another book before a movement in the corner of his vision caught his attention and he looked over. Even swooped back into a messy ponytail, Lance would recognize that mullet anywhere. Keith mother fucking Kogane. Lance felt his mouth go a little dry.

The first semester into his sophomore year and he’d never _actually_ spoken to Keith. Okay technically that little misunderstanding the first day of astronomy class counted as a conversation, but honestly Keith didn’t need to be such a dick about everything. Why did he have to constantly act as though someone had pissed in his cheerios every morning. It was unnecessary. So was his level of attractiveness. So was the way his bicep flexed just so when he pushed his bangs back out of his face. So was the way his lips looked when they parted, but his voice was lost amongst Usher’s when the song on Lance's phone changed again. Lance however could read body cues and when Keith motioned towards his ear, he knew to take an earbud.

“Can I fucking help you?” Regardless of how hot he was, Lance hadn't quite forgiven him yet.

Keith’s eyes narrowed, “Well _that’s_ a great way to start a conversation.” He tightened his grip on his backpack strap and hooked the thumb of his free hand into his hoodie pocket.

“You’re certainly one to talk,” Lance muttered.

Typically difficult, “Can we talk, somewhere else preferably?”

“Keith, I’m _busy_ okay,” Lance spat.

“Fine. Right here then?” Keith glared and silence was his reward. To his credit, he really did try. “I know about your cam show.”

Lance stalled and dropped the book in his hand. He turned his head slowly and a faint smirk danced on Keith’s lips. He _knew?_ Lance looked around Keith and then behind himself to make sure no one heard, but they were completely alone. He knelt down and grabbed the book, not even paying attention to the title, stuck it with the others he had and grabbed Keith’s wrist, tugging him along.

“What’s the matter, Lance? Thought you were busy?” Lance could hear the smirk in Keith’s voice, but didn't dignify him with an answer. Keith knew about the cam show. Keith Kogane had actually seen the show. _Oh god…_

Once at the study room door, Lance turned and shoved his books into Keith’s hands. He hastily retrieved the key to unlock the door before pulling Keith inside, shutting the door behind them a little too hard.

When he turned around, Keith was still wearing that smug look whilst he set the books down on the table, and _God_ lance wanted to hit him. Keith settled down in a chair with his legs spread, forearms on his thighs and hands hanging between them. Leaning back the chair he swung his leg from side to side with his foot planted on the ground. “Wanna talk now?” Keith asked.

“How long have- how do you even know about that?” He practically squeaked, only making Keith grin wider. In retrospect, it wasn't at all unlikely that Keith watched porn. In fact good on him, release some of that built up tension and frustration. It's good for you. Still, _this_ went way beyond anything Lance had ever anticipated.

Keith shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled the first book off the top of Lance’s stack and looked at it, “It’s not like I went out of my way to find you or anything, but you _are_ on the front page.” He put it down and pushed it away slowly. Keith tilted back on the chair, popping his eyebrows up.

Lance suddenly felt embarrassed - and almost a little exposed. He pulled the sleeves of his thin, red sweater back down to his wrists, squirming a bit as a soft blush crept up to his ears. Worst case scenarios were already tumbling around his head about what Keith could do with this sensitive information.

What if the school board found out? During orientation they’d gotten that speech about representing the school. This was _not_ the kind of representation they supported. And what about the other students, what if Keith just exposed him in front of everyone.

“Keith,” he began “I - Keith you can’t tell anyone.”

Keith stroked his chin almost mockingly as he mulled over Lance’s words, “What do I get out of keeping my mouth shut?”

Lance didn’t have much of anything to offer, and the one thing that did pop into his head he _really_ didn’t want to do; but this was a desperate time. His entire posture loosened and his shoulders sagged.

“I’ll - I’ll do your astronomy paper,” he offered. It was a painfully long moment before Keith ultimately declined with a smirk and a shrug, so he tried again. “I’ll do you paper, and- ”

“Tempting offer, but no. Not interested.”

“Come _on,_ Keith! What do you want from me?” Lance pleaded, his voice hitting a high pitched whine.  

“Actually, I think we could help each other.” Keith leaned forward, elbows balancing on his knees, “It’d be easier if you had someone with you, right?”

Blue eyes widened in shock. Not only did Keith watch his cam shows, but he’d done it recently. _Very_ recently. Oh god, did he know? Did he know that Lance had been talking about him during that little Q &A? No, not possible. Lance didn’t use names, and he’d barely even described Keith; more like what he secretly wanted Keith to do to him. And here was Keith offering to do the very things Lance fantasized about.

Lance chewed the inner corner of his lip nervously as he recalled how after the stream had ended and he’d readied himself for bed; he gave himself the best orgasm of the night. Alone under his sheets, he’d thought of Keith; imagined what it felt like having his weight on top of him, what it must have felt like to be filled by him. It didn’t take long for him to curl in on himself and moan into his pillow, spilling hot over his fingers.

A culmination of heat and jitters buzzed under his skin and he realized in all his mental wandering, Keith had gotten up and moved to sit on the table leaning back on his palms.

“I don’t get it,” Lance pouted, putting a hand on his hip and shifted his weight. “Why do you even want to?”

“What? I can’t be helpful?” Keith hummed, twisting his lips in a bored look. “I can’t be _nice?”_

Lance narrowed his eyes a bit, “Not without getting something out of it.”

"Think about it, Lance,” Keith said as he leaned forward and lifted his hands, beginning to count the supposed reasons why this little exchange would be beneficial for both of the. “ _You_ get fucked like you wanted, _I_ get to fuck you, and we both get paid for it.” That was another thing about Keith that rubbed him raw;  how could someone be so testy and yet have such sound logic at the same time?

“You said that’s what you wanted - unless you’ve changed your mind?” One of Keith’s eyebrows vanished into his hair with the question, eyes holding a challenging look.

Lance McClain did not back down from a challenge, never mind the fact that Keith had remembered something he had mentioned during a show well over a week ago. His lip curled back over clenched teeth.

“No, I _haven’t_ changed my mind,” he bit with more animosity than the moment called for, but a satisfied smile graced Keith’s face all the same. He used his hands to push himself off the table in a hop.

“Good, are you game then?” He fished his phone from his pants’ pocket and began tapping furiously on the screen. “If you just want my dick, then, I dunno… How do you want to do this?” He glanced up for only a second, “We could just split it forty-sixty?”

Lance’s face pinched, “I… what? No? We split it fifty-fifty. It’s only fair, after all.” Slowly the realization poured over his head: this was it, this was really happening. His brain swam with the fact that he and Keith Kogane were really going to have sex. On cam. For hundreds of people to watch.

“Good,” Keith made it official with that one word.

Lance felt his knees weaken as Keith handed over his phone to him. Already there on the screen was his name with a blank space for his phone number. He took a deep breath and willed himself not to shake so that he didn’t accidently mess up his own number. He then sent a text from Keith’s phone to his own, with a mental note to save the number later before handing it back. “Well, um, Allura is on her way here-”

Mama always said, “Speak of the devil and the devil will appear.” A soft tapping against the glass door behind lance made him turn around. There was Allura with her cloud of hair pulled back into a tight bun and her dance clothes. Always the eager one to get down to business.

Lance turned back to Keith and shrugged, “I’m doing a show tonight or did you want to wait and think about it more?”

Keith shook his head, “I’ve gotta meet my brother now, but I’ll text you when I’m done. We can work something out for tonight. Deal?”

Nodding mutely, he watched Keith gather his things before opening the door, allowing Allura to enter before he exited. As soon as the lock clicked, Lance internally screamed.  

 

* * *

 

“This is it,” Keith heard Lance murmur, the key in the door and pushing into the apartment. It was a regular dorm on campus, with a small kitchen just to the left and a living room separating the two bedrooms. Lance immediately kicked off his shoes at the the coat rack, dropping his backpack onto the kitchen counter, as he glanced over his shoulder back at him.

Keith stepped into the threshold and closed the door behind him. The dorm was cluttered, papers stacked on most of surfaces of the living room. A few posters hung from the walls near the TV, with multiple video game consoles and string lights around the crown molding on the ceilings. The window was open, overlooking a quad in the midst of multiple apartment complexes, and Lance and his roommate had taped Post-It notes on the glass to read “Send Pizza”.

Lance appeared from the kitchen with a can of cola, “Oh, Hunk and I did that in freshman year. It actually worked once.” Keith glanced over, catching Lance’s eyes just as he took a sip of soda. Lance gulped hard and cleared his throat, “Uh, do you want anything?”  
  
_Your hot ass,_ he thought to himself, but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Beer?”

Lance turned away to the mini fridge, half turning back to toss him a can of Coors Banquet. Keith caught it with two fingers around the rim, and cracked it open just as quickly. Lance cradled his soda and mindlessly chewed on his bottom lip until he turned fully to Keith.

Granted, he was watching the whole time, but still having Lance pierce him with those deep eyes so quickly - it made him jump half a centimeter up, nearly fumbling the beer can in his hand.  
  
“I guess I should show you the setup.” Lance put his can down and padded to the bedroom off to the left of the kitchen. The door was already open, betraying some precariously-full laundry baskets and a cluttered desk lined right up with the open door. He followed Lance in, glanced up at the small window on the wall opposite the doorway.

His sheets were familiar, an eggshell blue and crisp white. A camera on a tripod stood under the window, pointed to the ground but facing the bed pushed flushed to the wall with the doorway. A desktop sat on a second desk near the headboard of the bed, with a blinking screensaver of starry constellations. There were wires hanging from the desktop to the camera, and Lance stepped further into the room to plop down on the bed.

When he looked up at Keith, from the short angle, his throat went a little dry. He tipped the Coors to his lips and took a large gulp.

“This is it.” Lance waved to the camera and wires, “Must be a little weird seeing it from the other side.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at him, jumped one of his shoulders in a half shrug and plopped the can on the desk next to him. He sat down on the corner of the desk, hung his hands between his legs as he looked around the room a little more.

The same familiar red bottle of lube was plopped on the table next to Lance’s bed, with a little transparent shelving unit below it that vaguely held the vibrant shapes of toys. The outline of the black prostate massager on the top of the pile stood out, against toned rainbow glass and silicone, like it hadn’t been touched since the night Lance last cammed and tossed it back after cumming a second time on stream.

 _Fuck,_ Keith grabbed the can and sucked in a large gulp. He winced and put down the beer, coughing hard and pounding against his chest. Lance looked sheepishly amused from his bed, and got to his feet. Keith looked up at him from under his fringe, sitting up straighter as Lance approached.

“We should go over some things,” Lance leaned against the end of the backboard, close to him, “What’s your favorite color?“

Chest still burning, Keith blinked, “Uh, red, I guess?”

Lance quirked a brow at him, “Is that a question or an answer?”

Keith rolled his eyes in response, “It’s red, dude.”

Lance dropped his head to one shoulder, seemingly nodding. “Alright so you’ll go by Red, since I’m Blue. We already kinda talked about money - we’ll go fifty-fifty.” Keith nodded, slowly. He glanced from Lance, relaxedly perched on the backboard bars, to the beer can and back, mostly to avoid that piercing gaze. A plushie sat on the floor tucked under the bed, next to a Nike sports bag and a pair of old, worn, ballet flats.

Lance kept on, “And our safe word could be -”

“Peaches.”

It was out before he could stop it. It seemed easy anyways, unless he was eating peaches off of Lance - which wouldn’t be too bad of an idea now that he really thought about it. Sure it betrayed some inner thought of how he equated the idea of Lance’s skin to that of soft peaches, but it was weird enough to be said during sex that the idea would come across.

In the light of the single window, where soft late afternoon sun trickled in lines on the bed, and cut across his cheekbones like a golden arrow, Lance looked ethereal. Faint edges of his bare skin blurred in a soft glow, shoulders hunched and bagging the collar of his shirt to betray sharp collarbones. Whatever reaction Lance made was lost on him, for favor of imagining lick up the long column of Lance’s neck, until Lance waved a hand in front of his face.

“Don’t blank out on me, dude.” Lance laughed, an eyebrow raised, “We still gotta get this show on the road.”

With that, Lance stood back up and went to the camera pile. He began to piece together and arrange wires with more precision than Keith would have given him credit for, glancing over his shoulder.

“I think it’d be good if you stood by the door and just moved around the tripod when it starts.” Lance said, pulling the tripod just beyond the backboard and aiming it to the bedspread, quickly glancing back up, “...Unless you’re not down to do anything right now?”

Keith stood immediately, nearly tipping the beer can over as he did. “No I’m okay.”

The resulting grin was blinding, and wide enough to take up most of Lance’s slim face, “Sweet, now shoo.”

Keith moved back to the door as Lance leaned back up on the bed, clicking his desktop’s monitor on with a familiar mouse that sat somewhere near his crumpled pillows. There was a clear countdown of beeps before Lance waved to the camera as the live stream started. The chat was already filling up on the side of the window, the number of guests in the chatroom already ticking into double digits.

“Hi… It’s Blue!” The switch from setting up the stream to clicking into the persona was a bit shattering. Keith watched from the doorway as Lance shifted positions into leaning back sexily against the wall next to his bed and piercing through the camera with darkened eyes.

“Today I have someone special to introduce to everyone.”

That was his queue to stop leaning on Lance’s doorway and actually step into the room. He was directly behind the camera at this angle, and Lance peeked up at him as he moved around the backboard to the side of the bed. As he neared, Lance held out his hand and fisted it in the front of Keith’s shirt and pulled him down onto the bed with him.

His knees hit the bed and Lance huffed a laugh, turning him to the camera near the backboard. “This is Red! Say hi Red.”

Keith raised an eyebrow to Lance and then to the camera, trying to ignore how the chat absolutely rolled with new messages and notifications, as he awkwardly tipped two fingers from his forehead.

“Red’s twenty, like me,” Lance rattled on, the hand that tugged on his shirt now rolling up his shoulder and down his forearm. “We have a class together, and he goes to the gym regularly. On top of being the prodigy of our Planetary and Space Sciences Department.”

Keith held back the shiver from feeling Lance’s fingertips on his skin. “...Do you really have to say all that?”

Lance turned to him, full, deep gaze with a tiny, little grin. “They want to know you, Red!”

And they did. Various questions popped into the chat as Lance said so. A majority of them ran along the lines of ' _Is this the guy you were talking about?'_ and Keith glanced over at Lance. The reaction was subtle in that Lance paled only a little bit before he shifted on the bed into some sexy little bend back, sliding against Keith’s chest and burying his fist in Keith’s shirt.

“How about we start with three hundred for Red’s shirt?” Lance purred, a little quick, rolling his other hand up Keith’s abdomen to show some skin for the camera. He just settled back, giving Lance some quizzical glance at the crack in his voice, but Lance just avoided eye contact all together.

A musical tone of various notification dings rang up, before Lance was fisting both hands in his shirt and nearly ripping the article of clothing off him. The ponytail that sat in his hair loosened from the treatment and he raised his hands to tighten it, glancing off to where Lance tossed his shirt.

“Didn’t have to…” He paused after turning to look at Lance, who sat perched just at the end of his knee, hands still in the air and eyes clearly running over him. He smirked immediately, but before he could say anything, Lance jumped to look at the camera.

“Uh,” Lance’s voice was high, eyes flashing back to Keith, “How about three-thirty for my shirt - um, and then, six hundred for some POV?” Lance turned to him, a hand sliding through the bedsheets to get closer to whisper to him, “It’s cool if I suck your dick right?”  
  
Suddenly, Keith wished he hadn’t left his beer can across the room. Lance McClain sat on all fours nearly in front of him, asking to suck him off in front of a good couple hundred people and counting. His stomach flipped, watching the smooth glide of Lance’s shoulders and those lips he hadn’t realized were just plump enough to absolutely look wrecked around his cock-

“Yes,” He said back, hands down by his sides. “Uh. Yeah.”

Lance breathed out, “Great.” The notifications rang continuously, and Lance chuckled a bit before he stripped his shirt from himself, leaving caramel skin glowing in the light. It reminded Keith of warm honey, and he bit back the urge to run his tongue over it. All the tan skin he had been aching to glimpse in Astronomy 101, now out in front of him. Freckles dotted the tops of his shoulder blades and beauty marks like spots of angels’ kisses dotting around his chest. He shifted back up to a sitting position as his dick jumped at the exposure of Lance’s skin.

When the notifications let them know they’d hit the tier for POV, Lance slid away on his knees, plucked the camera from its tripod and passed it to Keith. He glanced from the lens of the camera to the livestream playing on the desktop, the bed dipping from Lance lifted off the bed.

 **  
** He followed, hung his legs off the edge of the bed and rearranged his grip on the camera until it sat in his right palm. With space between them, Lance plopped down on his knees. The camera aimed to the ground, affecting keeping the tiny dip of Lance’s eyebrows private to Keith alone. Almost like some tantalizing need for confirmation that Keith did want this. He nodded to Lance.

He placed the camera steady in his right hand, aimed down as Lance pulled in close on his knees. Lance fit between his legs easily, hands dropping onto Keith’s thighs. With his left hand, Keith swiped through Lance’s hair, thumb pressing his bangs back. Lance immediately tilted his gaze up, fingers ghosting over the bulge in Keith’s joggers.

“How’s it looking?” Lance murmured, mouthing at his crotch through the cotton and fingers pulling at the waistband.

Keith held back from groaning, legs spreading as Lance pulled down the waistband over his ass to the knees. “...Good.”

“Just good?” Lance smirked to his boxers, licking up the bulge and mouthing at the thin barrier.  
  
He was getting goosebumps, fingers going slack around the camera as Lance pulled his hardening cock from his boxers and mouthed his way up to the tip. The fingers of his free hand sank into Lance’s bangs, fisting the short locks and pulling that gorgeous face back as Lance swept licks up his tip. God, it was a sight, the pink of Lance’s tongue flat on his tip, eyes sparkling up at the camera.

Lance blinked once, slow, before placing his palm open on the inside of Keith’s thigh and sucking him graciously into the hot velour of his mouth. He swirled that soft velvet tongue over Keith’s tip, bobbed deep like he was born for it, firm grip on his base with his free hand. He ran his thumb up the shaft as he pulled off Keith’s dick, rubbing his slit in slow circles, all while pressing neat, little kisses up the side. He was achingly hard against Lance’s soft peachy skin, already dribbling thick drops of precum.

From the soft side angle, Keith ran his hand through the side of Lance’s hair. Pulling strands back from his ear, watching him rub his now leaking tip against a smooth cheek in order to lick down to the base. Lance slid the hand on his thigh to under the band of his boxers again, cupping his balls and squeezing as he sucked Keith back in.

Keith hissed through his teeth, nearly bouncing his knee at the pressure. Lance licked up every drop from his cock, not letting even a little ounce drip past his lips. He popped those blue orbs up at the camera as he bobbed up and down. With his thumb on the corner of Lance’s jawline, he tilted back Lance’s head.

Immediately he popped open his mouth and showed off how Keith’s cock laid flat on his red tongue. The glistening of his spit against his teeth, his tongue peeking out beyond his lips to lick at Keith’s shaft. Slowly, shallowly, Keith lifted his hips and fucked in on Lance’s mouth. The roll of his upper lip closing in, taking the short thrusts in stride and melting under the fist Keith sank into his short hair had Lance’s eyes slit in pleasure. With his hips fully off the bed, Keith held himself hovering and pushing into Lance’s mouth, guiding the tilt of his head by the hand in his hair.  
  
He widened his feet, pulled Lance in close to push in deep. The knot in his stomach was tightening, and his toes curled against Lance’s hardwood floor. “...Blue,” He muttered, swiping the pad of his thumb through Lance’s bangs to get his attention, “I’m gonna cum.”

Lance’s hand found his base, moving firm strokes as he sucked hard at Keith. It was maddening, watching the plump of Lance’s lips stretch thin about his cock, swallowing what he could before -

Keith shuddered, groaning as he came. Lance tilted his hand back in turn, opening his mouth to show the camera as Keith unloaded onto his tongue before swallowing it all and popping off his dick. With that, Keith flopped back onto the bed. Lance wiped a hand across his lips, and slid up, grabbing the camera from Keith. The bed dipped around Lance’s weight as he crawled to put the camera back on the tripod, showing a clean tongue to the audience.

“Mm... “ Lance’s voice was rough, scratchy, “Nine hundred for some penetration?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could vaguely see the desktop monitor. The numbers were already precariously close, and comments flying in.

Keith wanted to carve Lance’s lines out with his tongue, and trail down that utterly smooth abdomen to below the band of his blue briefs and too-tight jeans. Those were next. The knees were ripped, a little peek of ruddy knees before Lance unbuckled his jeans and pulled them off. He tossed his socks off too, trailing his fingers up to pop his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs. Lance snapped the band once, glanced over his shoulder at Keith with a coy grin before pulling them off completely.

Maybe he wasn’t as nearly prepared for this as he thought. Looking at Lance, bare and folded on the bed sheets, utterly gleaming under his staring and soaking in the rays of the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Lance was quiet, holding his eyes like a vice.

He toed off his socks, shimmied fully out of his joggers and boxers. They plopped onto the floor in a pile and he pulled himself onto the bed, turning to Lance near the backboard. Lance was eyeing the desktop over his shoulder, but snapped his gaze to Keith when he leaned in close.

Keith placed his palms on Lance’s angular face, tipped in and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Lance’s lips parted against his, but relaxed in some semblance of a regular kiss. He skimmed his thumbs up through Lance’s sideburns, kissed harder in order to push his lips apart and run the heat of his tongue against the bottom of Lance’s.

It was just a kiss, nothing to flip out over, but the result was astounding. He was hard again, sliding up against Lance’s bare thigh and pulling off his mouth to trail rough bites down his neck. Lance jumped at the press of their bodies, but molded into him easily, moaning into his ear at the attention. His head tilted to the side, some gracious picture of relaxation and pleasure as Keith decorated that flawless neck in the outlines of his teeth. He scraped those thin collarbones with his canines, and rolled his tongue over every mark until Lance was bending back in his arms and gasping.

Keith hooked his arms around Lance’s waist and pulled him up, close to suck some burning bruise just below his collarbone. It was hot between them, stifling in the room and his palms slid on wet skin. He grasped Lance’s thighs, plopped him down on the bed on his back.

Lance pulled at his ponytail until their lips met again, grasping as his neck and shoulders like he was pulling him in but also pushing back.

“Red,” Lance mumbled, and he pulled back just enough to breathe the warm air between them, gesturing to the desktop where they had reached the tier, “On my desk.” Keith pulled away, turning to grab at the desk with the computer, snatching up the red bottle of lube and one of the condoms scattered around.

When he looked back, Lance was propped on all fours at the end of the bed. His thighs were spread, head tilted over his shoulder, looking back at Keith. The hitch in Keith’s breath was soft, fingers clenching around the bottle of lube and condom package. Lance was trimmed, waxed soft and flushed to the tailbone. He rocked on his knees, forward and back, with little shakes of his hips and arch in his back.

Keith moved forward, popping the top of the lube bottle to lather the fingers of his right hand and lean his forehead on Lance’s tailbone. He ghosted his lips over the curve of Lance’s ass, sank his teeth in the plush flesh when he pressed his fingers to Lance’s hole. A shudder ran up Lance’s spine, past his lips, and he rolled his fingertips against the puckered rim to get him to ease up.

Lance did relax, with a hushed mewl as Keith dipped his finger in. He rocked it shallowly in Lance, until he could add another figure as he loosened up. Lance leaned forward enough to hang his head against the bars of the backboard, hips trembling as Keith slowly fucked him with his fingers.

“Ah -” He curled up with just enough pressure for Lance’s shoulders to jump up to his ears. He massaged the pebble he found there, watching the sway of Lance’s hips as he teased his prostate. There was a resounding slapping sound as Lance clapped a hand over his own mouth, muffling breaking moans to his own palm until Keith reached around to pry it away from him.

“Red,” Lance’s voice cracked, a delicious combo of gravely and high pitched, “God, put it in already - Fuck -”

Keith pulled his fingers out, swiped them along his dick and shifted up. He ripped off the condom wrapper with his teeth, carelessly, before rolling it down over his straining cock.

Resting a hand on Lance’s waist, he leaned over him to mutter to his ear, “Ready?”

Lance nodded immediately, pushing his hips back and sliding his knees further apart. Keith poured lube on his dick, covered by some cherry red condom and fisting himself twice until he was slick.

He pushed in; a gentle slide, just a few inches. Lance arched his back, fingers gripping the backboard and hips tense. “Nhh…”

It was tight and hot, utterly tantalizing with pressure. A line of sweat trickled against his jaw, hands fitting tight against Lance’s slim waist. Lance was tense, all tight muscle in his back going rigid and fingers curling to bit into his fists around the bar. His breath was caught audibly, straining out into some high mewl.

Keith pulled in, close to his ear, tapping their temples gently together, “Breathe, Blue.”

Lance’s shoulders relaxed, just a bit, before he started to pull air into his lungs again and relax around Keith. He let Lance adjust before moving, pushing in to fit snugly against Lance’s ass. His spine bowed this time, hips popping out and head dropping between his arms to gasp at Keith’s girth. A few blissful moments went by before Lance picked his head up, hand reaching back to still on Keith’s thigh before he looked to the camera.

“ _Ah_ ,” Lance began, “Let’s hit a thousand for the good part - hm?” He shifted his thighs back, pressing against Keith and utterly causing his stomach to jump at the extra inch in. The chat began to ding with vigor, a melodical wave of bids and tips.

Lance glanced behind his shoulder, just enough to catch eyes, “How ya’ doin’, Red?” He nearly fluttered his eyelashes, with a slow flirty smile that caught on pearly teeth and looked vibrant against the flush of his cheeks.

Keith’s eyebrows knit, with a smirk before he rolled deep into Lance. Lance immediately stiffened, back arching further in pleasure and head tilting back. The resulting moan was stifled, by a lip bite as his hands scrambled for purchase on the back board. Chat exploded, and Lance dropped his head below his caved shoulder blades with a little tremble. The tops of his shoulders were rosy with blush, fingers snapping tight onto the bars.

“Fine,” Keith murmured, bending over Lance to press his forehead down on his back. “You? How’s it feel -” He pulled in closer, shifting deep against Lance, making his brown hair bounce as he threw his head back and moaned. Keith slid in close, to his ear, “ - to be filled?”

Chest to Lance’s boney back, Keith trailed the fingers of his free hand up the long column of Lance’s neck, glancing from the pretty pink of his cheeks to the viewfinder. In the dark camera lens, he could see himself over Lance. The pretty bow of Lance’s back, shaking thighs and palms pressed tight against the bars of the backboard. The contrast of his white hand against Lance’s cinnamon skin, trailing up to that open mouth and dipping his two fingers in.

Lance jolted, but took in the fingers gratefully, letting Keith push down on his tongue and kreen around them when he ground a circle into Lance again. He pulled at the corner of Lance’s mouth, betraying whites of his teeth and memorizing the roll of Lance’s blue eyes back as he leveraged some perfect angle and shifted a thrust forward. He glanced at the tip jar and saw they had made their one-thousand quota, smiling against Lance’s skin.

“Like it?” Keith muttered, teeth scraping on the soft skin under the ear, starting with deep but short thrusts into Lance. As he pulled back further, just to thrust in again, Lance whined against his fingers, slipping his tongue in between Keith’s fore and middle finger.

“Mmyah,” Lance muttered around his fingers, sucking them in and nearly popping his ass back to Keith’s stuttering hips. He dropped his forehead to Lance’s wide shoulders, hand hooking around his waist as he picked up the pace. There was no way he could keep it slow with Lance sounding like that.

His deep grinds turned into faster thrusts, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed shifted under his knees, Lance’s voice bouncing off the walls as he reached around to slip his fingers around his leaking russet cock. He peeked over Lance’s shoulder, at the viewfinder again. In the image showing back, his black hair was clinging to the sweat on Lance’s neck, and the flush on his shoulders and forehead were almost as vivid as Lance’s. He liked the look of his fingers around the color of Lance’s dick, how that mouth dropped with every thrust and how Lance’s fingers scrambled for purchase from the bars to the sheets and back again.

“ _God, Red,_ ” Lance groaned, Keith’s fingers falling out of his mouth. That was him, he was Red. He buried his face in Lance’s slick shoulder blade, hips slapping against his perky ass and squeezing tight on the base of his cock. Lance slipped on the bars, one hand plopping onto the sheets as Keith rammed into him.

He carved bites into the back of Lance’s neck, to muffle whimpers and groans when Lance popped back to meet his every thrust. He was already getting too close, swallowed in by Lance’s warm body and tight muscles.

Keith spread his knees wider, tightened a grip on Lance and rolled his thrusts harder. He ground deep in every end of a thrust, and stroked Lance tight as he did. Lance frantically gripped the arm Keith had ran across his waist, tossing his head back to prop against the crown of Keith’s head in order to moan mayhem to his ceiling.

“Right there,” Lance’s back curled, _“_ Oh _god right there -”_

Warm cum spurted over Keith’s fingers, dribbling over his knuckles and down to the sheets. Lance very nearly shouted, his shoulder blades bowed and hips pushing flush to Keith’s crotch. The tightness was suffocating, and Keith knit his eyebrows tight as he pushed just a few more thrusts until he came.

“Fuck, shit,” Keith groaned, huffing curses to the curve of Lance’s back. His hips stuttered when he pulled out of Lance, immediately pulling off the sticky condom and tying it with a snap. Lance shifted forward on his knees to the camera as Keith stood from the bed to toss the condom away. He was out of the camera’s viewpoint as Lance ended the stream, with his quippy usual outro and a faint wave, before plopping face down on the bed sheets.

On the desk by the far wall, the livestream ended to a glaring red number of _$1538_ and a little loading bar as the total was transferred to Paypal. Keith watched it go, idly dropping the used condom in Lance’s wastebasket and then fishing blindly for his joggers from the floor.

He tossed his boxers into his gym bag, sliding into the gray joggers commando as the loading finished and the payment processed into Lance’s Paypal. Lance shifted from the bed, caramel skin catching his attention against the white sheets. The brown head of hair rubbed against the blankets until Lance popped up to look at him.

“Holy shit.” Lance was flushed at the tops of his cheekbones, and babbled on, “I mean, like a good holy shit. Not a bad one. Oh my god, my body is _killing_ me. Again, in a good way. Fuck, I’m totally going to need to shower and to clean up before I can start on that astronomy paper.” Keith watched as Lance scrambled up, wincing, and leaned over the end of the bed to grab his red sweater. He shrugged into it, still talking all the while, “Still can’t believe that happened. That happened, right?” Lance’s head popped out of the sweater, hair just as messy as when he ran his fingers through it.

Lance paused, looking at him.

“Oh, yeah.” Keith said, realizing Lance was looking for an answer.

Lance proceeded to fish around for his briefs, ducking his head over the edge of the bed.

“Yeah… totally happened. Wow, um,” Lance was muffled with his head down, but popped up to pull on his briefs in slow movements on the edge of the bed, “Hunk’s probably going to come home soon. Like, I don’t know how you’re feeling about that…”

Keith raised an eyebrow and bent to grab his shirt. He pulled on the thin, black, athletic material and readjusted his ponytail, glancing through his bangs at Lance, “I guess I’ll go.”

Lance paused, blinking away and then back at him before standing up. “I’ll show you to the door.”

It wasn’t like he needed to, especially when Keith noticed the wobble in his step. The awkward little tittering of Lance didn’t stop as they walked through the dorm to the door, like he was trying to distract from something as weird as just having sex on camera in front of hundreds of people. Keith understood. It was probably a one time thing only, by the way Lance rubbed the back of his head when he opened the front door.

Lance cleared his throat, “Cool so - um…”

Keith cut in, “See you around campus?”

Lance perked up, all bright eyes and timid smile, “Yeah!”

Keith nodded once and went through the door, gym bag high on his shoulder. He turned half to Lance and nodded, getting a small little wave in return, before he went down the hall. He was halfway through the elevator when the dorm door shut firmly down the hall, followed by a loud resonating thump. He paused, nearly reaching to stop the doors before the muffled voice of Lance echoed down the hall in a tiny “ow”.  
  
He shook his head, smirked, and let the elevator doors close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay, I know some people are not/were not happy about the way Keith went about this situation. In hindsight it was sort of blackmail-y and im so sorry thats how it turned out BUT Lance would have said no if he really didnt want to and Keith is kinda a fuck boy but he never would have forced Lance to do anything I swear - Jubi
> 
> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	3. [00:03:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nestled between some books, pressed to the back of the shelf so as not to topple over, sat an open laptop with that familiar web page and chat screen. Lance felt his stomach drop. The small green webcam light only solidified everything. 
> 
> His jaw went slack and he turned to Keith. “You have got to be kidding…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we missed last week because we're both stressed college students pls forgive us  
> also this chapter was mostly written by jubi, she's fantastic ❤

 

 

\- [00:03:00] -

* * *

 

“750… 60… 9.” Lance thumbed the bills between his fingers for perhaps the fifth time since he’d withdrawn the money that morning. The last thing he wanted to do with jip Keith on the money he’d earned. The more he thought about it, Keith had _definitely_ earned his share of the money. Lance sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile on his face. At least the hallway was empty for the most part, no one would see him smiling like an idiot to himself in the hallway. He folded the small wad of cash in half and stuffed it into his jean pocket.

Keith had told him that he would be hanging around the bookstore between classes, though when Lance had shot him a text to confirm, there had been no reply, much to his annoyance. Best to try there first, anyway. Lance trotted down the stairs and pushed through the double doors, and was met with a low chatter of the few students who dared to take morning classes. He made his way through the small throng of people, occasionally saying hello to familiar faces as he made a beeline for the bookstore.

Since summer break, the entire bookstore had been restocked with supplies, school apparel and food. Behind the checkout counter hung a flat screen T.V. playing student videos and low music. Pidge sat behind the counter with a stack of notebooks and a price gun tag at the top. Keith stood opposite from her and swiped the tagger before she could and pointed it at her.

“Keith, don't touch that!” She snapped as she leaned forward and snatched it from his fingers

“Admit it, without me here you’d lose it on slow days like this.”     

“Without you here on slow days like this, I might actually get some work done,” Pidge muttered as she tagged the first notebook, began a new stack and repeated.

Lance had known Pidge and Keith to be fairly close friends, but he’d never really cared, only making a fuss whenever Pidge blew off hanging out with him and Hunk to go talk aliens with Keith or whatever it was they did. He shrugged off his backpack and sat it next to the cubbies by the entrance - It was now required to leave bags at the door after someone got caught stealing from the store or so Lance had heard. Pidge heard Lance shuffling around and peered over the top of Keith’s head.

“Hey Lance, whaddya need?” Pidge asked with that typical customer service care smile, albeit more genuine.

Lance tried his best not to let the way Keith looked him over when he turned shake him off his game. He came here with purpose and a plan. He was not going to let someone who willingly wore a mullet knock him off his game.

“‘M just visiting. Don’t worry though, I’ll pay the toll.” He knelt down and opened his backpack, rummaging around and pulling out a small tupperware bowl.

Pidge nearly launched herself over the counter as Lance approached them, shaking the container. The contents bounced around with dull thumps. He stopped next to Keith and handed over the container, setting his elbows on the counter and holding his chin with a smug smile as he watched Pidge rip the lid ofc and look inside.

“Made them last night. They’ve got cheesecake filling and strawberries in them, fried and tossed around in cinnamon and sugar.” Blue eyes shifted to the corners, landing on Keith and crinkling a bit. They flicked back to Pidge and watched her practically bounce on her heels. “Remember, when you reheat them don’t put them in the microwave or they’ll get gross. You gotta fry them aga-”

Pidge grabbed one of the sugary treats and bit into it.

As if struck by something foul, Lance’s expression soured. “You heathen…” he whispered. “Empanadas are to be eaten warm!”

“Does it look like I have a fryer here to you?” Pidge managed between chews. “I’m hungry.”

“Why do I even bother with you?” Lance sighed, closing his eyes. He laid his arms out in front of him on the counter top and slid back slowly before turning to Keith. “Can we talk for a second?”

“What? You got a gift for me too?” Keith teased.

Lance tipped his head motioning towards the freezers lined up near the counter before walking towards them, muttering under his breath about how thick headed men were.

“Subtle,” Keith scoffed when they two were just out of Pidge’s ear shot.

He walked slowly past each freezer door until he reached the third down. Inside he found Gatoraid, pops, and just above eye level, Starbucks. Lance gripped the handle and pulled the door open, reaching for his usual vanilla. He decided to just go ahead and ignore Keith’s little comment and instead fished the money the money from his pocket. He turned, leaning his shoulder against the cold glass of the freezer door and held the cash out to Keith.

“This is yours,” he sighed softly. Keith, smirking, grabbed the money, encompassing Lance’s fingers in his own. Lance pulled his hand to his chest and clenched his hand in a fist and watched Keith put the money into his pocket without even counting it. “So um,” Lance had been going over this conversation a thousand times in his head and honestly, anyone who said public speaking would help with this kind of stuff was a liar. He felt his tongue go thick as all his planned words flew away. Keith looked back at him. “Do you have like, a job or something?”

Smooth, Lance.

Keith squinted a bit and tilted his head in silent question.

“I just mean,” Lance tried to save. “It’s not the most _traditional_ line of work, but it’s easy and it’s good money.” He began to worry on his bottom lip and tightened his grip on the neck of the bottle. He sounded dumb. This was a dumb idea. “Actually, scratch that. Forget I said anything.” He turned on his heels and briskly walked to the next aisle. He could head Keith’s footsteps following him. Maybe if he just ignored him, he would go away and they could just act like none of this ever happened. Sounded good to him.

“Lance.”

He ignored him, hyper focusing on the snacks that lined the shelf. Oatmeal, chips, snack cakes. God just because they were college kids didn’t mean they had to eat like shit.

“Lance-”

On the flip side, a small can of Pringles wouldn't kill him. If they only had BBQ.

“ _Dude!”_

Lance grabbed the first can of Pringles there and turned around. Keith looked at him with raised eyebrows, thumbs tucked into his back pockets.

“I thought this was a one time only thing?” he mused.

 _Where the hell did he get that idea?_ Lance put his hand on his hip and pointed the chip can in Keith’s chest. “I never said that. _You_ never said that. That whole thing was your idea, Mr. 80’s Stud Wannabe **.”**

Keith cocked an eyebrow, “Hey, you wanted to do it too.” backhanded the can away from his chest.

 _Touche._ “Look, I woke up this morning and checked my messages and stuff like I usually do and there were so many people asking about you.”

Keith smirked, lips tugging sideways, “Your fans liked me that much, huh?”

His chest squeezed, scrambling quickly and feeling the tips of his ears flush, “Uh-”  

“I’m just kidding. So what are you asking? You wanna be partners now or something?”

Keith shifted, leaning against the end of the snack shelf, crossing his arms and letting Lance at a gorgeous sight of his pale biceps.

“Y-Yeah, or something.” Lance cleared his throat. “You don’t have to be in every single show… In fact, I think I’d die if you were.” He shifted his Pringles and snacks to one hand, pulling out his phone with the other.

“So,” he started, glancing up at Keith under his lashes, “I keep a schedule to my shows. Every three to four days, so the last was end of last week and the next is in like two days.”  

Keith straightened, “Thursday?”  
  
He blinked up at him, hand going slack on the phone. “Uh yeah?”

Keith tucked his hands into his pockets, a corner of his mouth turning up. “I’ve got an idea actually.”

“...Care to share with the rest of the class?”

His grin stretched, jumping his shoulders and stepping forward into Lance’s space, “Don’t worry about it. Trust me.”

Lance peered at Keith through squinted eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. When he found none, he pointed a finger at Keith  with a vague “hmmm” before walking past him back to the counter.

Pidge looks up from the tupperware, crumbles on her cheeks as she immediately puts the barcode scanner to the snacks he dumps on the counter. She keeps chewing her mouthful of delicious empanada, cheeks like a chipmunk.

“Alright munchkin,” Lance laughed, helping bag the items. “Don’t forget our sci-fi marathon later this week. Hunk’s been dying for it.”

Pidge grins around her full mouth, “Fuh’ yea.”

He scoops the plastic bag in the crook of his arm, glancing at Keith leaning at the end of the counter near Pidge’s stool. The instant eye contact nearly sent a jolt up his spine, watching how Keith’s eyes bore into him from under his fringe.  
  
“Uh,” he blinked back to Pidge. “Cool okay bye Pidge…  See you, Keith. Text me?” And sure those eyebrows disappear into his hair, but Keith nods before sliding right back next to Pidge, eyes still trained on him. He nodded once, right back, “Alright, bye.” and turned to leave.

As he walked out of the book store, feeling a little more confident than when he walked in, he heard Pidge’s large gulp and muffled voice.

“Since when do _you_ talk to Lance McClain?”

 

* * *

 

**Keith**

_Hey_

_What are you doing?_

Lance looked down at his phone like it had just grown wings. Pacific Rim blared its sci-fi awesomeness just behind him in the living room, followed by Hunk’s gasps and Pidge’s loud popcorn munching. Lance closed the bathroom door behind him and leaned against the wood, holding his iPhone in both hands.

_hanging out_

_…_

_why_

He transferred his phone to one hand, threading the other through his untamed, unstraightened hair. In the bathroom mirror, his skin screamed behind his glasses for attention. He went ahead to apply his pre-show mask when his phone buzzed on the counter next to the sink. He wasn’t about to let the fact Keith Kogane had seemingly texted him out of blue get to him, no matter how he jumped and immediately opened the text message.

_Meet me at study room 5?_

Okay, now _that_ was a little concerning. Lance’s eyebrows knit, straining against the tightening mask. From the living room, Hunk nearly squealed at the death of a kaiju, and it was followed by loud hollering from Pidge. Hunk already knew the schedule, and sure Pidge was in the dark but she did know that after the movie Hunk did have fraternity duties and Lance supposedly had homework to do. Would it be so bad to dip on them early? Especially when Keith obviously wanted to talk about something?

Granted, that idea alone was already nerve wracking. What could he suddenly want to talk about? With one hand, he washed his face of the fast acting mask and with the other, responded.

_mkay_

* * *

Lance found the door to the study room cracked. He’d only conversed with Keith a few times since the week before, but he hadn't spilled anything about his plan for today. Maybe that’s what this was about? A meeting before the scheduled show time? It made sense. He pushed the door open and shut it behind him all the way. Keith stood by the window with his back to Lance in a white tank and a pair of jean joggers. _How many pairs of those do you own?_ Lance’s eyes traveled down Keith’s back, _Damn, they do look good on him though. Stick with what you know, I guess…_ Lance cleared his throat, making Keith turn.

“You move like you’ve got molasses in your veins,” Keith teased.

That lopsided smile and the look in those blue gray eyes made Lance’s stomach do backflips, “I just wasn’t expecting you to text me.”

“Oh, I hope I didn’t mess up your plans or anything?”

“Nah, I was just hanging out with Hunk and Pidge. We were watching a movie, but I’ve seen it like six times already.” Lance shrugged and adjusted the temple of his glasses.

“So then you’re not busy?” Keith leaned towards Lance, squinting his eyes. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.” He smirked.

“Yeah, contacts are a thing.”

“You should wear them more. They’re cute.” Keith, in another act of what Lance could call southern gentleman charm, held the door open for him.

Lance followed Keith’s lead towards one of the furthest stacks in the back of the library. For all its seclusion, it was a notorious spot for the more shy couples to sneak off to. Not that Lance had known anything about it personally. He was above that middle school level nonsense. All the same, when he realized exactly where Keith was leading him to, well it would be an outright lie to say his nerves didn't jump. Nestled between some books, pressed to the back of the shelf so as not to topple over, sat an open laptop with that familiar web page and chat screen. Lance felt his stomach drop. The small green webcam light only solidified everything.

His jaw went slack and he turned to Keith. “You have _got_ to be kidding…”

There was a flash of something… disappointment maybe? Clearly that wasn't the reaction Keith had expected. Lance watched the way Keith chewed on the inner corner of his lip. “It’s just, how are we going to do this one? We’re kinda,” _Loud._ Lance let the unfinished word hang between them.

“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Believe me, that’s _not_ the issue I’m having. Here’s the tiers to consider. And I’m so not prepared to do this.” He vaguely gestured to himself and his home lounge attire. Scarcely worn yoga pants and a tank top with a fading graphic. He turned to look at the computer again. So many people were already in the chat. It would be a little harder to get into his cam persona wearing these rags.

“Thought about that already.” Keith’s breath ghosted his ear making him shudder.

Keith snaked his arms around Lance’s waist and drew him close. “See, everyone who’s here paid in advance. Like a private show kinda thing.” the pride in his voice rang clear.

“How did you-”

“I found a little bird to help me spread the word around,” Keith interrupted. “Thanks, D-B,”  he said with a grin. Keith’s expert hands worked their way under Lance’s shirt, running over bronzed skin. A small contented sigh fell from Lance’s lips as he tilted his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder. Keith’s hands slide up over Lance’s chest, grazing over those sensitive nubs. There was a pause before, **“** You know you don’t have to **-”**

Lance turned in Keith’s hold, a mischievous glint in those familiar cat eyes, “Shut up.” He leaned forwards, catching Keith’s bottom lip between his teeth ever so gently and tugging teasingly. Keith leaned into him, focused on lip locking until Lance pressed his body back.

He slid down to his knees slowly, hooking his fingers into the waist of Keith’s joggers. He tugged pulling Keith’s hips towards him. He palmed at it, ignoring Keith’s amused chuckles, until he shifted the waistband down. He worked Keith’s already stiff cock from his boxers and smiled at the way Keith sucked a shaky breath through his teeth when Lance touched it.

“You were _that_ ready for this, huh?” He asked as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft, feeling the weight before tightening his hold. Keith’s dick nearly throbbed in his hand, a flushed almost angry red around an already leaking tip. It looked like Keith hadn’t jacked off in days and was suffering for it, hot and hard in Lance’s palm.

Keith groaned wordlessly as he began to double over. He reached down, carding his fingers through brown locks. Lance felt a knot in his stomach twist. They could be caught at any second in the middle of this. To his surprise, the risk of being walked in on made his own cock strain in his pants. Lance flattened his tongue against Keith’s tip and licked slowly over the tip before wrapping his lips around it. He grabbed Keith’s thigh with his free hand. With the other he began to stroke Keith, hand starting at the base and moving up to Lance’s lips and then back again. Precum ran down, beading around the head and Lance flicked his tongue over the slit.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Keith hissed. His hips snapped forward, pushing into Lance’s mouth in a sharp, shallow thrust. Lance’s shoulders jumped, letting Keith’s cock push against his stretched lips. When Keith pushed forward again, Lance pulled off with a wet pop.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, flicking his tongue across his abused lips.

Keith tightened his fist in Lance’s hair and pulled his head back. Looking up at him, Keith was already well on his way to looking wrecked. Keith’s cock visibly twitched at Lance looking up at him, and his hips jumped as Lance pressed even the softest lick to his bobbing tip. He flattened his tongue against the slit, precum salty and wet, straining against Keith’s hand in his hair. He pulled back and immediately Keith whined at the loss.

“Aww,” Lance crooned. “Don’t worry, Red. I’ll take care of it.” Lance pressed a kiss against Keith’s tip before nosing against his exposed hip bone and placing an open mouth kiss against the blushing skin. Keith clapped a palm over his own mouth, moaning as Lance licked from the base of his cock to the head before sucking him in, bobbing his head. He swallowed around Keith. Lance’s eyes flicked up, taking in Keith’s flushed face.

Keith’s hand slid down from Lance’s hair to curl his fingers under Lance’s chin, tilting it up just so. He thumbed against Lance’s cheek, pulling his other hand away from his mouth. “You don’t even know how pretty you are with your lips around my cock.”

Lance preened, humming as he swallowed around Keith again. He bobbed his head once, pulling back with a wet sloppy sound to pool spit onto Keith’s tip before going down on him again. The tug of Keith’s shaft in his mouth made him moan, aiming to push it further down his throat, letting his moans reverberate wetly around Keith’s cock. Without warning, Keith fisted his hand in Lance’s hair again, this time pulling him down until Lance’s lips came flush to Keith’s skin in an open mouth kiss and held him there.

Lance’s hands curled against Keith’s hips and his body jerked upwards in panic at the sudden feeling of Keith’s cock touching the back of his throat, blocking off air. He strained to look up at Keith, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Keith silently put a finger to his lips. On the other side of the bookcase, Lance could hear footsteps. Muffled against the carpet, but still audible. Lance squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. His throat tightened and he began to gag around Keith. His throat clenched around Keith, closing his airway in something intoxicating. His eyelashes fluttered, letting the lack of air prick lightly at his head and stiffen his already straining hard-on, tip of his nose buried in Keith’s pubic bone.

The throb in his yoga pants burned, making his toes curl. He couldn’t take it, sloppily stuffing a hand into his pants to tend to himself. The tension in his shoulders laxed, choking on a blocked breath as he gripped himself. Lance definitely prided himself on his ability to hold off orgasms for extended periods of time, but this was not one of those instances. Keith rolled his hips, _feeling_ the low moan Lance let out upon his release, nearly seconds after Keith pushed Lance down on his cock and fucked into his mouth hard.

Keith’s hips snapped forward again, pushing at Lance’s throat. The footsteps faded out and Keith let go of his hair. Lance pulled off with an almost pained gasp, taking deep lungfuls of air while Keith tiled his head back against the wall. The two gazed at each other through hazy eyes. Lance broke into a smile and covered his mouth with the back of his hand to stifle his giggles. Keith’s shoulders shook with a silent chuckle. He smirked gently as he reached down and clawed his hand in the front of Lance’s shirt and pulled him to his feet.

“But I didn’t-”

Keith turned Lance around to face the the laptop again, nestling his chin into crook of Lance’s shoulder. “You did such a good job…”  he slid his hands into the front of Lance’s soaked tights, running his open palms down Lance’s thighs. Keith turned to press his face to Lance’s neck, his hands looking intoxicating as he rolled them over Lance’s thighs and under the tight black fabric. “Did you like that?” he asked.

“Uh-huh…” Lance whispered, eyes drooping to watch Keith’s hands.

“I think, you deserve a reward.” Keith parted Lance’s thighs, his grip tight. Lance panted softly, feeling to hot in his own skin as Keith thumbed over the head of Lance’s already eager wet cock. “So good for me,” Keith said, voice heavy with sex.

Lance looked down through heavy lids, hips bucking as Keith full on stroked him, occasionally applying pressure with his thumb over Lance’s tip. Even though he came only moments ago, it took no time for him to start leaking precum over Keith’s fingers, spotting the dark tights.

“I- I’m...” Lance squeaked. Keith’s stage name fell from his lips, or some garbled version of it anyway. Keith removed a hand to grab onto one of Lance’s wrists, twisting it back and holding it to the small of Lance’s back. The knot in Lance’s lower belly tightened and he rolled into Keith’s fist so feverishly his glasses began to slide down his nose. “Please…” he moaned, throwing his head back against against his partner.

He ground back, wiggling his arm against Keith’s tight hold. Keith’s erection burning hot against the his ass, still bobbing out of his joggers and wet from Lance’s mouth. Keith buried his forehead down into Lance’s shoulder, retaliating with a deep grind to his ass. He moaned, fucking forward into Keith’s fist.

He arched, some determined stubbornness pushing him back into Keith’s hips, rolling up and down like he would at the club. The grip on the arm behind his back went slack, Keith jumping hips forward to meet him and groaning utterly low against his skin. His thighs tensed with new energy, rolling his body against Keith, feeling how slickly his partner’s cock slid between his ass cheeks, like the material of his yoga tights weren’t even there.

Keith tightened his hold around the base of Lance’s dick, stilling in touching him to thrust his hips against Lance’s ass. He arched his back further, bouncing his ass back to meet him until Keith was practically mewling and scratching at his thighs to fuck up faster. Hot, humid breath radiated on Lance’s nape, every groan and curse traced with the brush of Keith’s lips on his skin. When Keith came, hot and sticky over his tights, his nails sunk into the thick part of Lance’s inner thighs. The touch of his teeth was sharp, and he gasped hotly on Lance’s shoulder.

His stomach tightened, throbbing in Keith’s now slack hand. His cum was startling on Lance’s thinly clothed ass, hot spurts over his ass cheeks and up to the waistband just below the dimples on his lower back. The stacks of the books around them weren’t thickly backed by any means, someone could absolutely turn the corner and see Keith rutting into Lance’s ass like a starved animal and Lance, wrecked throat and burning face, with his dick incredibly hard against the thin material of his yoga pants.

He nearly folded over with arousal, hips twitching with the need for stimulation. His glasses were drooping down his face, turning to Keith with shallow pants.

 _“Red.”_ The whine in his voice cracked with need, and god he was too loud, _“Please…”_ Keith clamped his hand over Lance’s mouth, inky bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead and shushed him.

“It's okay, I got you. You were so good today, you can do it.” He started slow pumps to squeeze over Lance’s tip again, fingers parting over his slit to gather leaking precum. That did it. Lance whined against Keith's hand. His eyes rolled back, lids squeezed shut as that mind numbing heat consumed him. A tremble rocked through him as he came in eager spurts over Keith's fingers and in his tights.

He relaxed back against Keith, his tights snapping back over him as Keith removed his hand and held his waist. His knees were weak, calves clamped and thighs shivering post-orgasm. Keith slid forward off the wall, and Lance nearly overturned them both with his dead weight when Keith hooked an arm around his waist. It was so snug, felt so jerkingly natural as Keith supported him.

Suddenly those dark eyes were turned to him imploringly, before turning back to the laptop with its blinking green light. It took a second but Lance raised a hand in greeting, some satisfied grin on his lips.

“Thanks everyone for coming. See you next time.” He kept it quiet, because the last thing they needed post-coitus was some poor librarians’ aid hearing him signing off their cam show, “Red and Blue signing off.”

With his free hand, Keith turned off the webcam and shut the laptop. His other arm slipped from around Lance’s waist to pack up his laptop under an arm. It was embarrassing that his weak knees had him leaning against the bookshelf, watching Keith with a hazy gaze. Keith caught his eyes and jerked his head back toward the study rooms, an eyebrow raised.

Lance nodded and followed him. **  
**

 

* * *

 

 

In thought, driving Lance home was a good idea. In practice, it was some cruel payback for the surprise he had given him. He hadn’t seen Lance in such a wrecked, post-sex state since they first fucked on camera just a couple weeks prior. He hadn’t even seen Lance’s shows since starring in one, mostly because he was busy with science labs and Shiro suggesting extra gym time. Now, Lance slid onto his leather seats, in the yoga pants that had him twitching in his joggers the second he saw them, his hair unstraightened and ruffled with sex. The parking lot was dark and cold. He had shrugged into his jacket before leaving the library but Lance had stayed in his tiny tank top and ruined tights, skin slick and shiny in the dark under the laMp lights.

When he started the car, turned the ignition on, and pushed into first gear, Lance reached into his bag to pull out tissues and pat at his tights.

Under the lampposts lining campus, Lance’s lips look ruined. A dark pink, swollen against his slim face, hair dipping to brush against his cheekbones. The curve of which lead down to that gorgeous throat, the one he _fucked_ -

He snapped his attention back to the road, dry shifting into third gear, hand clutched tight around the stick as he sped up. The library wasn’t too far from Lance’s dorm tower, and Lance turned to him surprised when he gassed. From the corner of his eye he could see those eyes, each individual eyelash highlighted under the streetlights, beyond his glasses.

“So,” Lance jitters, leg bouncing, “We definitely almost got caught.”

Yup. He gripped the gear shift, glancing at Lance again. The soft fluttery of Lance’s hair stuck to the sides of his cheeks, his cheeks high with post-orgasm flush.

Lance continued, “How fuckin’ crazy. I mean it was hot but wow we were sooo close.” He snorts, grinning towards Keith.

He shot him a smirk back, then paused. He readjusted his grip on the leather wheel, hands unsticking softly. “...I know it was a lot. If you never want to do it again, we, uh, don’t have to.”

The seat squeaks as Lance leans over the console almost immediately, “What? No way, oh my god, I was really into it! Dude like, thank you for totally exposing me to this. Who knew public could be so hot?”  
  
His grin was stunning, stretched wide and lopsided, shifting over the console so their arms just gently brushed against each other over the stick shift. Keith knew, Keith definitely knew. He spread his knees, trying to ignore the jump in his gut at Lance’s puffy lips so close to his face.  
  
The turn into Lance’s complex was made a bit sharp, hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears to a slow roll outside of the front entrance. It was pretty late, with just the fluorescent light from the complex lobby and the streetlights lining the parking lot. He idled the car, foot on the brake and flipping on the hazards. Lance immediately unbuckled, tossed his backpack over his shoulder and slid out of the car. He ducked just a tad, grinned to Keith and waved a hand before turning to the lobby.

He was about half way, and Keith was already revving the engine to peel away when Lance whirled around. His backpack whirled with him as he turned back and passed around the front to Keith’s driver side window. Those yoga pants really left nothing to the imagination, tight across that ass and nearly see-through against the light of the streetlamp next to the Mustang.

Lance’s finger tapped on the window and he leaned forward to crank the window down. He looked up at Lance, posing to talk when Lance caught the light just right. The streetlamp fanned a halo around his rumpled hair, carving his jawline and catching on his plump bottom lip. A literal post-orgasm glow highlighted his cheekbones, with a soft blush and a gleam of sweat.

Keith’s throat closed.

“Buddy,” Lance grinned, teeth catching the light, “You should totally come to Hunk’s frat’s party this weekend. It’s some welcome-back-to-campus, and it’d be great to see you elsewhere than uh - Astronomy or the library.”

He shifted so his forearms leaned onto the window sill of the Mustang, rocking back on his ankles and dipping into the car with a smaller smile. “Pidge will also be there, she’s running the bar.”

He stood back up, straightened with his hand tucked into his backpack strap and shifting from foot to foot. Keith blinked from burning holes into Lance’s caramel skin, revving the engine with a bouncing toe.

“Yeah. See you there.” He nodded, elbow perched on the sill.

“Sweet! See you.” Lance grinned and turned, with a small wave before walking briskly to the lobby.

Keith geared up to peal away from the curb, but not without watching Lance walk away, hips swaying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8) I hope I did okay, this is the first time I've written smut. Ever. - Jubi 
> 
> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	4. [00:04:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keeeeith,” Lance rolls his tongue like he does during his cam shows, slow and flirty, “Let’s do a caaaam showww right now.”
> 
> Some Kill Bill siren goes off in the very, very far back of Keith’s head, but every molecule in his fucking body is screaming even louder for Lance. Right now, bent over the kitchen table, at some frat party in front of his goddamn best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! a little early this time! <3 remember to review - it keeps us motivated!

  

 

 - [00:04:00] -

* * *

 

Keith was more of a kickback kind of guy. Parties weren’t really his scene; he liked having chill evenings with friends and a few beers but nothing like the craze that was fraternity weekend benders. He tended to avoid fraternities all together, especially when Shiro warned him about them when he was an undergrad and caught himself in the wrong crowd. The only thing pushing him to get his ass off the pull out couch in the apartment was Lance’s invitation. Which, honestly, wouldn’t have gotten him anywhere near said party if Lance himself hadn’t asked in all the glory that was post-coital via Keith himself. Something about the streetlamp casting some shitty, angelic glow on the sexy mess of his hair and delicious flushed face.

So eleven p.m. came around and he walked up to the crowded doorstep, barely even having to say anything before they let him through. Maybe Lance had told the hulking bouncers to keep an eye out, or maybe they knew Keith would absolutely take them both in a fight, but they just dipped their heads for him to go in.

The air was stifling, clouded with the scent of sweat and weed mingling together, bodies pressed together in hordes in the living room. He immediately passed it for the kitchen, opting to find the one person he usually would find in the area where they kept the alcohol.

Pidge grinned at him from over her round glasses, and immediately shoved a shot in his hand, “Fee is 5 bucks.” She nodded over to a handmade sign, decorated with her bold yet messy scrawl in sharpie, “But I’ll be generous.”

Keith looked at her, deadpan, “Sure.”

He knocked back the shot to the sound of her cackling, and a few peoples’ cheers. Almost instantly the empty shot cup was replaced with a full, opened can of beer. Pidge sat back on top of the kitchen island, beer between her thighs. She was wearing her hair in short pigtails, and Matt’s military jacket over fishnet tights. It was an odd contrast to the pastel shorts of a few frat boys close by, who - upon seeing Pidge - howled over “hello”s and she grinned right back. He wanted to ask how she knew them, but opted the answer would include something cryptic about something illegal.

Pidge’s pale, little hand slaps the bottle of his beer to his mouth, forcing his head back to chug as she raised her beer and did the same. The cheers were louder this time as they raced to finish their drinks, but Pidge had to pull back to gasp halfway through the bottle. However, unlike the freshie with her baby lungs, he had liquid ones. The burn of chugging hit his chest when he pulled back, lips wet from beer and laughing at Pidge’s affronted look.

While she immediately made grabby hands for the next beer, he glanced around. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen, leaving a more relaxed lull amongst the crowd. Beer pong was set up near the commons table, and people trickled in from the living room in throngs, either to pass into the kitchen for more alcohol or heading either upstairs or to do God only knows what. A head of brown hair caught his eye and he turned from the mass of liquor bottles to Lance, who dipped out of the living room out of breath, shooting a grin over his shoulder to Allura. He was flushed a different kind of red, a Solo cup clutched in his hand and strip of gorgeous skin exposed from a crop top that yelled in white letters “ _Daddy’s Boy”_. Lance looked away from Allura and when he found his eyes, they were locking together from across the room. Lance’s eyes widened a fraction, before his face split into an infectious and stunning smile.

Keith grabbed Pidge’s beer bottle by the neck and downed it, _Shit._

Pidge whined something mighty until he poured her sweet wine, watching Allura and Lance cross the hallway and disappear back onto the back patio. Lance’s grad student dance partner caught the eye of everyone in the hallway, but Lance was the one they leaned in to greet. It seemed he knew everyone, with the way he waved and grinned. But this grin wasn’t at all like the one he gave Keith.

 _Fuck,_ he thought as he scrambled his hand back to grip a bottle - any bottle - and pull it to his lips. Vodka hit his throat and he gulped down any nasty coughing for favor of getting as drunk as possible. Pidge whistled loud, two fingers in her mouth.

“That’s my best fucking friend!” She called, cupping her mouth and drawing a crowd, “Shots! Let’s do shots for my gay ass friend!” The crowd cheered and he pulled the bottle from his lip to start pouring it into their hungry cups. God, it was going to be one hell of a night.

 

* * *

 

Keith leaned his head back against the cupboard, some shit-eating grin on his face from where he heavily leaned against the counter. Pidge was talking ears off about quantum physics and the pros of a robot girlfriend, her hands waving in the air and fair skin flushed to the bone. He probably wasn’t much better; his face burned with all the alcohol. He wasn’t a lightweight by any standard, but he _did_ have enough to drink Pidge under the table. Leaning against the counter gave him some stability, hands deep in his pockets and feet planted wide in case the floor decided to call him down for dinner and a nap.

He idly weighed the idea of heading home to the burger that was in his fridge when a hand slammed onto the marble next to him. He turned, fast enough to make him blink dizzily before Lance came into view. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other tonight, and if _he_ was fucked up, then Lance was even more so. His hair was a mess, his crop top was sliding off one shoulder, his grin was crooked and sloppy, and his eyes were slit like tiny, cut sapphires.

“Keeeeith,” Lance rolls his tongue like he does during his cam shows, slow and flirty, “Let’s do a caaaam showww _right now_.”

Some Kill Bill siren goes off in the very, very far back of Keith’s head, but every molecule in his fucking body is screaming even louder for Lance. Right now, bent over the kitchen table, at some frat party in front of his goddamn best friend. He doesn’t even feel himself nodding until his head spins, but he steps into Lance’s space and sloppily slides both of his hands on Lance’s slim hips.

Keith wants to tell him how much he likes those hips, but there are too many people. He processes the idea of going to Lance’s place, because a cam show definitely means getting into Lance’s pants and he wants that more than anything. Then it occurs to him. Shiro is out of the house for the night, the camming equipment is propped in the corner of his room, and the image of Lance spread out wide and begging for him on his red bedsheets is just too tantalizing to pass up.

Lance giggled - an honest to God giggle - and dropped his head down to his shoulder to peer at Keith under his eyelashes. Keith turned to Pidge, where she sat on the beer pong table now trying to swat at ping pong balls from both teams. He glanced back to Lance when the brunet locked one of his arms around Keith’s neck and slumped forward to his ear.

“Keeeith,” Lance whined, rolling his hips forward and - _oh,_ “Rrrright nowww.”

“A’ight,” Keith slurred, heavy tongue pulling out too much Texan, “Leggo.”

He pulled Lance along, who had happily latched onto Keith’s arm to stay close and also walk somewhat straight. Ha! - Keith snorted at the idea of Lance being somewhat straight, brushing past the bouncers with Lance in tow as he turned north to his apartment.

He fished his keys out of his pocket with his free hand, slipping the key between his fore and middle finger to hang from his fist. Lance had gone from nestling into the crook of his neck to nearly toppling forward to try and pull Keith along instead.  
  
“Mm, this isn’t the way to my place.” Lance whispered, pulling in close again.

“Ya,” He grunted back, hooking an arm around Lance’s slim waist, trying - and utterly failing - to not run his fingers up and down the small exposed skin between the end of Lance’s shirt and the top of his low-rise jeans, “We’re goin’ to mine.”

Lance paused, slouched and relaxing into Keith again, “Yay...” He grinned to Keith, eyelids drooping low and smiling like a cat, “I can’t wait.”

Keith couldn’t either - not when Lance gave him that look.

Keith pulled him along, the blocks melding together on their way to his place. It was only a few turns until the complex rose in front of them, and he helped Lance up the outside stairway to the top floor, shoving his key in the door and hustling them both inside. His toe caught on the door stop, stumbling to the side as Lance leaned on him and started to laugh.

Lance whined, hot breath on his face, clutching tight onto his shoulders, “Oh wooow, so smooth, Keith.”

His head pounded as Lance breathed on him, shifting so his back hit the wall near the door and braced himself with Lance nearly entirely on him, “Yer fuckin’ heavy.”

Lance hissed, glaring weakly and reeling back from him. His face was flushed, deep red from his cheeks to his collarbones, and Lance watched him trace the lithe lines of that defined neck before sticking his tongue out.

Keith snorted, “We in third grade now?”

Lance turned away from him, pouting off into the apartment. “Yeah - jus’ tip me and I might hold your hand.” He stepped away from Keith, kicked off his shoes sloppily and took big steps into towards the hallway, calling back to him, “Could kiss you under the bleachers or something.”

He watched Lance wander into the flat, glance back and pointed until he got the right door to Keith’s room. When Keith nodded, Lance grinned and slid straight in, leaving Keith standing in the entry way until he followed. There were a few thumps, heavy on the hardwood until Keith pushed open the door and saw Lance, one leg lifted out of his jeans and plump ass facing the door as he tried to stumble out of his pants.

His blood rushed in his temples, throat dry. Lance kicked off his jeans, and gasped when he saw the camera pile in the corner. Immediately Lance went over, sat down on his knees and pieced together the tripod and video camera like it was legos. Keith rubbed the back of his head, clicked on his laptop propped on his desk and toed off his shoes and tossed his jacket near Lance’s forgotten jeans.

He pushed the HDMI cable into the laptop port and sat right down on his bed, head pounding and blood racing as Lance stood up again. He sat the tripod up, straightened the viewfinder, even though it was still off and wandered over to Keith.

“Hiiii, everyoooone,” Lance called, a bit loud, pulling at the buttons of his shirt, “It’s Blue!”

Keith opened his mouth to announce himself when Lance plopped right on down in his lap, ass back against Keith’s crotch and throwing off the crop top. “And I’m with Red!” Lance looped an arm around Keith’s neck, leaning back on his shoulder and rolling his hips back onto Keith. He merely grunted into Lance’s shoulder, knees widening when Lance looped his slim thighs around them.

Spread to the camera, Lance still worked on him. He rocked back, grinding and making Keith’s foggy head even foggier. The heat on his cheeks were on his fingertips now, and in his lap. Lance left tracks of heat following everywhere he touched, the touch of his fingertips lingering even after he had trailed away from Keith’s jawline or his adam’s apple.

“Technically,” Lance purred, muffled by the side of Keith’s head as he buried his face in thick black hair, “nothing was planned but this party we went to got boring, right, Red?” Keith tilted his head up when Lance pushed his forehead into Keith’s jaw, nodding as Lance pressed deep back into him and arched his back. It was like his voice was utterly stolen out of his throat, fingers clasped tight on Lance’s waist.

“Mm, so we moved the parrrty here,” Lance slurred, “so this show is kinda out of the _blue_ …” He grinned, glancing back at Keith and wiggling his eyebrows.  
  
Keith knit his brows, blinked and then rolled his eyes back at Lance. Lance immediately cackled, softly, privately, and then rolled his thighs back and popped his ass flush to Keith. The groan in his throat bubbled, caught as he pushed his forehead down into Lance’s shoulder blades.

Lance rolled his hips in a tight circle before pulling back and dropping straight to his knees. Keith’s hands closed in the air at the loss of Lance’s warm body, eyes drooping down. Lance looked at him with a mischievous smirk, hands pawing at Keith’s fly before pulling out his hard cock.

His slim fingers worked up the sides, Lance’s lips kissing the tip and pulling at his foreskin with his thumb. Keith groaned, fingers tight in the sheets and hips jolting on the edge of the bed. Lance licked a thick strip up the middle, rolling his tongue around the tips and pulling down his skin with soft lips. He sank down onto Keith’s cock until it hit the back of his throat, sloppily slurping him in. Keith grunted, hips kicking up into Lance’s mouth and one hand sliding through soft, brown bangs. This wasn’t as neat as Lance giving him a blowjob like the first show they did together, but he was too drunk and too horny to compare them properly. Lance licked around his dick, taking him in sloppy and swirling his tongue around the shaft. He sucked deep and bobbed his head to use Keith’s cock to fuck his throat.

All those drinks, and now he couldn’t handle himself. He threw his head back, moaned unhindered and thighs twitching.

“Fuck,” Keith groaned. “God, so good -” He ran both hands through Lance’s hair, again and again, panting open mouthed. Lance sucked up every little drop of his precum, spat around the shaft and used both hands to work the base as he sucked the tip until Keith was trembling, practically fucking drooling on the edge of his bed. God he was too drunk for this, his fingers rolling under Lance’s jawline to pull him off his dick.

Lance pulled off with an obscene _pop,_ his tongue wet and lips messy down to his chin. Keith pulled him up by the upper arms. He pushed the small of Lance’s back to pull him onto his lap again and tugged down Lance to meet his lips. The taste of his own precum was on Lance’s tongue, but he kissed him soundly, hard and unyielding. It was wet, licking the inside of Lance’s mouth and pulling on his bottom lip hard to swallow moans between the both of them. Lance’s thighs rolled against his legs, soft and bare, with his hard cock in those tight briefs rubbing against Keith’s abdomen through his shirt.

He rolled his hands down Lance’s waist, grabbing at his ass. Lance gasped into his mouth and sat up on his knees to thread his fingers through the back of Keith’s thick hair and roll their bodies closer. He trailed those fingers that Keith loved up from his neck, all nails through his hair against his scalp. Goosebumps raised on his forearms, causing a shudder up his spine as he pulled Lance flush to him.

“Hey,” he muttered, pulling at him, “They’re not gonna get off seein’ yer back.” His hands felt detached, just grabbing at the lines of Lance and pulling at his plush bottom lip.

Lance just laughed, wrapping his arms and legs around him tight until Keith got the message to rearrange them after a few seconds. He plopped back on the bed, kicked his ankles up and pulled Lance with him to lay him down on the bed. He bounced against the red sheets, all caramel skin and perfect teeth.

He pushed back down onto Lance, kissed him sloppily and deeply. The resulting moan was full body, starting in the nails Lance ran up his shoulders and pulled at his shirt and leaving his legs wrapped high around Keith’s waist. “Ah, Kei -”

Keith swallowed Lance’s almost-moan of his name immediately, biting at his lips in semi-warning despite the jump in his heart at Lance practically calling out for him. Lance rolled his nails to Keith’s waist, squeezing his legs tight around him and then pulling hard at his tight black shirt until Keith stripped himself of it. He tossed it somewhere, Lance flopped his head back over the side of the bed and moaning as he ran his hands over Keith’s shoulder blades and biceps.

“Kei - _Red,”_ Lance gasped, rolling his hand down Keith’s abs. “You’re so - ”

Keith swallowed his words again, stripping Lance of his tight underwear and fumbling blindly for the lube. Lance in turn pulled at his jeans and boxers, sliding them to the back of his thighs and rolling his palms up Keith’s ass. He popped off his mouth, nipped at Lance’s caved collarbones and licked at the dip in his neck.

“God...,” his voice was rough and heavy on Lance’s tan skin. “Yer so beautiful… I ain’t seen a boy as gorgeous as you.”

The drunken giggles were immediate, tilting his head back off the side of the bed and threading his fingers through Keith’s hair, “Ain’t?”

Keith hummed quizzically, glancing up from his work on Lance’s neck. Lance smiled, wiggled his torso and hips and cupped Keith’s sharp face with both hands. “I love your accent an’ how it slips out…”

Keith’s eyebrows knit, corners of his mouth twitching up as he rolled lube on his fingers and kissed down the length of Lance’s body. All the curves and lines, licking the crevices and remnants of sweat from dancing, pulling Lance’s legs high and spread to taste his inner thighs and swipe his tongue up Lance’s slim cock. He danced on the red bed sheets, curled out and spread beautifully, moaning like he was meant for such a simple act.

Without realizing it, he was uttering sweet nothings to Lance’s glistening skin, “Fuck, _yer beautiful._ God, _spread ‘em wider! Fuck - yer so damn gorgeous._ ” He spoke into Lance’s hipbones, or the dip of his inner knee, as he kissed and ran his tongue over everything.  
  
In response, Lance cried out for more, begging just as loud, “Ke- _Red,_ gotta fuck me, please, oh my god.”

He pushed Lance’s legs up, hands gripping his calves to push Lance wide and dip his head low. Keith ducked down, licking down the bottom of Lance’s creamy thighs until he had slid back up onto his chest. Lance’s right leg plopped down onto his shoulder, but he kept the grip on the left solid, using the fingers of his free hand to push a plush cheek back and push his tongue against the pink puckered hole.

 _“Red!”_ Lance choked out, ankle rapping down hard on his shoulder blade and fingers twisting hard in the sheets. He didn’t let Lance say anything further before he smeared his tongue around the rim and dipped gently in. The warmth had a little taste of cherry lube, and he sloppily wound his tongue past the rim to lick heatedly at Lance.

Above him, Lance was making a chant out of his pseudo-name, begging in broken whimpers to be fucked but obviously loving the attention to his ass. He twisted and pulled his nails at the sheets, hips jerking so violently Keith had to plant his hand on his abdomen to hold him down as he worked his hole. Immediately Lance pulled his legs wider, moaning and sliding them down to the crooks of Keith’s forearms.

He shuffled Lance back on his spine, to present his ass easier for the camera and for better access to twirl his tongue deeper inside. Lance sobbed beneath him, wildly twisting against his hand and fingers scrambling to tug _hard_ at Keith’s hair.

“ _God yes, please, ah- fuck me, fuck me, please!”_ Lance wailed, eyes screwed tight when Keith licked deep in. He pulled back, chin glistening to admire how wet and shiny the pink of Lance’s ass looked before he pressed his tongue flat to his hole, and in one long stripe, licked up Lance’s balls and dick, over his bellybutton and between Lance’s soft pectorals until he reached Lance’s mouth again.

He kissed him softly this time, full of hot, velvet tongues and slow tilting motions as he spread extra lube around his own dick. Lance’s skin jumped on the bed, limbs tangling around him like a vice trying to suck him in, gasping out to his mouth, “ _Put it in, oh my god, please -”_

Keith grabbed himself with a hand at the base, pulled Lance’s ass spread open with one thumb. He paused just gently to rub the slick rim of Lance once time, nearly grinning at Lance’s sobs before he pushed in. Lance’s head popped back over the edge of the bed instantly. His legs climbed up onto Keith’s shoulders, hands gripping Keith’s biceps for stability as he propped himself up and rolled deep into Lance.

“Mnng, Red!” Lance gasped, high pitched and mouth pursed in pleasure. He dropped his forehead to Lance’s chest, grunting as he built up deep and slow thrusts. From across the room the faint, ever so faint ring of dings from the chat was cascading, escalating, continuous like he’d never heard them before.

His head was dizzy, from the alcohol, and how intoxicating Lance wound up, all flexibility and long gorgeous legs, how he looked being fucked by him over the edge of the bed. He raised his head to watch how Lance erratically moaned to his thrusts, fingers sinking tight over the edge of the bed.

 _“_ Fuck, how do yew look so good...” He groaned, nearly at some excruciating pace that had Lance’s bare ass slapping against the front of his thighs, his thumb jumping over to brush across Lance’s rosey cheekbone. Lance whined at the attention, his moans blending into each other, a never-ending crescendo, but the smile on his face deliciously infectious.

He was already grinning with Lance when one of his arms wound itself around Keith’s neck and pulled him down for a bumpy, little kiss. His hips embarrassingly stuttered when Lance giggled softly to him, “Your breath smells like rum. I loooove it - ah - mmmm...”

And that, for whatever reason, had him flushing darker than the alcohol did. He opted to grind deep into Lance, letting him clutch onto his neck in order to cry out into Keith’s collarbone as he slid right into a particularly deep angle. He was reeling from how hot and tight Lance squeezed him, knees weak when Lance locked his legs back up on his shoulders and let him sink even deeper.

He buried his forehead down into the covers next to Lance’s neck, groaning into his sheets and breathing heavy. It was too good of an angle, having Lance wrapped around him and pulling him in. God, he really wasn’t going to last.

He dropped down to his forearms, plank position, rubbing their chests together and tilting his head into Lance’s collarbones. He ground tight circles in him, aiming for that perfect spot until the crack in Lance’s voice had him smirking, and he started utterly pounding him. The pace was making his poor bed slam against the wall, sheets moving and Lance crying to some higher power. His nails scrambled on Keith’s forearms, in his hair, down his jawline, and up his back, their journey blazing red trails over Keith’s skin that would last him far longer than the night.

Keith was too close, head swimming. Somewhere deep in there, a little inner voice convinced him Lance needed to cum first. As quickly as he dropped into plank position, he sat back on his heels, pulling Lance with him until his thighs slid to cup his hips.

The upright position was dizzying, but their lips found each other almost blindly. He gripped those hips like he’d never before, and fucked deep into Lance. Lance’s legs crossed around his ass, his back arched in to press sweaty skin against sweaty skin and trap Lance’s leaking cock between them. Each thrust he fucked in, he pulled Lance down to meet, literally bouncing Lance on his dick.

It was so intoxicating, like some kind of liquor he’d never tasted in his life. Each thrust was met with Lance’s soft lips, until Keith was babbling and groaning.  
  
“ _God_ ,” he grunted, “Lan -”

A soft palm slipped over his lips, and he looked up at Lance. Bouncing down on him with every grind and thrust, Lance stared back with some flirty grin, a tiny warning, on his thoroughly fucked face. God and he loved it.

The orgasm was the dizziest one he’d ever had, with Lance clutching his shoulder with one hand, the other covering his mouth. His vision filled with some sensory white, with hot pressure connected to Lance. He filled Lance with whatever his drunk body could give him, Lance’s spine going straight and nearly trembling against Keith as he came just seconds later. Keith breathed heavy against Lance’s palm, until it slid away as Lance did, down to the sheets like a ragdoll. He felt about the same, but the dinging of the chat was an obviously reminder they weren’t alone.

He stood, on trembling aching legs, shoved his wet spent dick back in his jeans to move toward the camera. With a wave and some inkling of a smirk, despite his pounding head, he clicked off the camera and computer before returning to Lance.

The curve of Lance’s back to him stood soft against his dark bedsheets. His legs rubbed together, and Keith tapped on Lance’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmured, “Time to get cleaned up.” Lance whined, curling in and shaking off Keith’s fingers with some half hearted shrug. Keith nearly rolled his eyes, “You’ll regret it in the morning.”

There was a pause before Lance thrust out one open hand. Keith snorted, pulled back from the bed to retrieve a damp towel from the bathroom.

When he returned, Lance had turned to face him on the bed. He was still naked, neck wet with new hickies, and eyes drooping against Keith’s maroon pillow. What craftly tousled hairstyle he had worn for the party was an utterly ravaged mess of short brown hair against the pillow, his bruised lips still shining with wetness.

Keith approached, and Lance immediately pulled his knees up to his chest, jerking his head to the end of the bed. Sure he paused, and gave him a weird look, but he sat nonetheless, rag in hand.

Lance’s legs unfurled, slid apart as he rolled onto his chest. His left leg hung off the bed, and he hummed to Keith’s pillow.

“You’re such a princess,” Keith muttered, scooting forward to press the rag to Lance’s ass and clean him. He ran the clean edges of the towel up Lance’s spine, to wipe whatever dried on his chin until Lance was practically purring against the bed.

Lance was muffled against his pillow, “You like it.”

He pulled back, rag crumbled up in his hand. Lance turned his head into the pillow completely, shoulders relaxing and humming peacefully. He looked golden against his sheets; he looked like he belonged there.

Keith stood and went to the door again. He definitely needed a shower.

He really liked it.

 

* * *

 

Lance woke first, even before his alarm.

Sleep-crusted eyes opened only to be greeted by thin rays of sunlight peeking through the blinds. Soft, but still too bright for his liking. Maybe that was the hangover talking. He sat up on an elbow to turn away from the window and was immediately hit by the throbbing ache of his muscles with even just the slightest shift - deep and warm, but not in the nice way. Maybe Keith had been right, and Lance wanted nothing more than to sit in a bath.

His features screwed together in an unpleasant grimace as he continued onto his side, sinking back into the blankets with a soft grunt. When he opened his eyes again his entire line of sight was filled with Keith. He was so close, mere inches away, their noses almost touched. Lance tried to subtly scoot back and noted that one of Keith’s arms laid across him snugly. Not that it actually bothered him.

Here in sleeping bliss, Keith looked _pretty_ . His dark hair was tussled and still damp, while soft snores fell from his parted lips. His shirt had been tossed the night before, which Lance _really_ appreciated because he could now, with no shame to speak of, admire his muscles as he watched the other’s chest rise and fall. Lance gently ghosted his fingers over Keith's chest, up his neck and along his jaw admiring the porcelain skin still flecked with blush.

Keith stirred towards Lance’s touch and he drew his hand back not wanting to wake him, to ruin the moment of their suspended reality. He wouldn’t mind more mornings like this or more nights like the last. Lance started to turn onto his back, but opted out when that dull throbbing ache began again. God it was worth it though remembering how Keith’s touch had seared him down to his bones. On the nightstand beside him his phone rang loudly with some beyonce song his brain was too fogged to remember.

 _Not no_ w… he thought, annoyed, as he forced himself to answer reach for it and see who dared to disrupt one of the most peaceful moments he’d had with Keith to date.

Without looking he slid his thumb over the locked screen and put the phone to his ear and threw his free arm across his face.

“Wha?” he slurred. The mattress shifted, rocking Lance a little as Keith moved beside him.

“Lance?” It was Allura. Lance was happy to know she had gotten home from the party safely. A pang of guilt hit him for having left her there alone last night without a warning. For a moment, he figured that was what the call was about. “Where are you?”

She sounded extra pissy this morning. The little voice of reason made a guest appearance telling Lance _not_ to answer that truthfully. He peeked over at Keith seeing the blanket wrapped low around his waist and the curve of his back adorned in angry red scratches that he knew to be his doing. Allura didn't know about Lance’s little side hustle and she definitely didn't know his business partner was Keith.

A knot settled in his belly. Despite the various times they’ve slept together, they’d never actually _slept_ together. Sure, they had both been drunk - too drunk and wrecked to stumble home - so it made sense right? Lance could have just as easily slept on the couch instead, but he hadn't. Keith hadn't moved him in the night either. He wondered why.

 _That_ was what was clinging to his hungover mind, the only clear realization he could experience at the moment that just stuck with him. Keith had let him sleep in the same bed as him, even after their impromptu cam show. It reminded him of something more domestic; for pleasure rather than professional profit. Keith shifted again, nudging a little closer to Lance in his sleep, as if sensing his inner turmoil.

“Home? In bed?” He replied, rubbing his tired eyes with his palm. “This is a normal hour for people to sleep on a weekend, not engage in phone conversations.”

“Mmm, you forgot about dance practice today, didn't you?”

Lance shot up, pulling the phone away from his ear simultaneously to check the time. Quarter to noon. _Goddamnit-_ Lance had convinced Allura to meet up with him at the school to go over some songs for the midterm as well as practice some exercises for their next class.

“Honestly Lance, I told you practice the morning after the party was a bad idea. I don’t know why you insisted.” Allura’s voice cracked from the line.

“Dude, I’m so, so sorry! I totally forgot.”

“It’s not an issue, just sleep off the alcohol. We can meet up tomorrow.”

Bless her _sometimes_ understanding heart. However, Lance would not accept missing a scheduled practice. He’d been sifting through song choices all week for this.“No, it’s cool, I’m getting ready now. Gimme Like, half an hour and I’ll throw in a smoothie.”

Before Allura could say anymore, Lance ended the call. He scooted back, resting his back against the wall and pressed his palms against his eyes as he groaned. Second thoughts told him he really should have taken her offer. The very thought of hours of practice, while he loved it, really did not sit well with his aching limbs. Then there was the fact that he’d promised an apology smoothie. He couldn’t bail on that, but he didn’t have Hunk to give him a ride. Calling Hunk was a no. Just no. Lance rolled over to look at Keith’s sleeping figure, poking out his lower lip. Usually the walk of shame was done quietly without the other knowing, but god, he needed a ride.

He reached over and shook Keith’s shoulder.  Keith didn’t give off the appearance of someone who enjoyed cuddling, but if anyone at school had seen the way Keith rolled into Lance, snuggling into his hip, Keith’s entire standoffish facade would have vanished on the spot. Lance shook his head slowly with a smile and shook Keith’s shoulder again. This time, Keith’s eyes scrunched and opened to thin slits. He muttered something sleep laden and unintelligible before rolling onto his back for a few moments, eyes closed, and then sat up hunching over. Rather lethargically he rubbed his eye and smacked his lips. Lance had to bite back a giggle as Keith looked around, trying to get his bearings. He scratched his bare chest as his eyes finally landed on Lance.    

 **“** Mornin’ handsome.” Lance grinned. There was a silent pause while Keith stretched his arms high above his head.

“If it’s breakfast yer lookin for, kitchens’ out there,” Keith yawned.

Cute Keith image... crushed.

 _Southern gentlemen my ass…_ if he wanted a free ride back to school, best not to start the morning with insults. “Mmm, no but I do need a favor?”

Keith lifted his head and pried one eye open in an exhausted squint. “I… wiped your ass for you last night and you're asking me for another favor?”

“Youuuu didn't object to that.” Lance stuck out the tip of his tongue between his teeth. “I forgot I had dance practice with Allura today and it's my turn to bring breakfast. I just need a ride.”

Keith closed his eye again and collapsed back into the pillows with an extended and, in Lance's opinion, dramatic groan.

“C’mon, buddy. I'll buy you a smoothie?”

  

* * *

  

Lance refused to go _anywhere_ until he’s showered first. Hunk had a morning class so there would be no questions as to why Keith sat in the livingroom while Lance freshed up and changed into his grey sweats and a tank top. He tied a black pullover around his waist, grabbed his backpack and practically dragged Keith back to the car for Smoothie King.

Vanilla coffee… high protein. Lance vowed to remember that order. A rather plain flavor compared to his Angel Food or Allura’s Cinnamon Latte, but he would remember it all the same.

Lance knew that Keith had probably one of the nicest cars on campus. A ruby red Mustang, year 2015. Not to mention it was a stick shift as well. No one rode in Keith’s car, except maybe his brother. Sure plenty of girls, and maybe a few guys, had claimed to ride with Keith, but Lance really wondered if that was true. He highly doubted it. In fact, Lance had begun to wonder about a lot of Keith related things here lately. Like, what did he do outside of school? How’d he know Pidge? Did he keep his hair long out of laziness? How much time did he spend working out? He certainly had the bruises to prove how killer those muscles were.

Lance sucked up some of his smoothie and glanced up as they passed through a light. The next intersection was already yellow. Lance side eyed Keith. He clearly saw the light too, a mischievous smirk played on his lips.

“Keith, are you gonna-” Lance pulled his smoothie away from his mouth and slowly put it into the cup holder next to Keith’s. _Just in case…_ his gut warned.

“Yep.” Keith grabbed the head of the stick shift.

“There’s no way. You are _not_ gonna make that.”

“Is that a challenge?” Keith tightened his hold before throwing the stick into high gear. The engine revved and the car lurched forward.

As the engine purred, Lance could feel every hair on his skin rise at attention. He instinctively grabbed Keith’s thigh as tight as he could. He shut his eyes and whispered the Hail Mary prayer with Keith’s laughter filling his ears as they roared through the next intersection just before the light turned red.

Keith switched gears again and the car slowed. Lance sighed in relief before glaring at Keith incredulously, “ _Are you out of your mind?_ ” The two glanced down at Lance’s hand still clutching Keith’s thigh. Warmth crept up to his ears and he snatched it away.

“...My brother certainly thinks so,” Keith replied after a moment, his eyes back on the road. Lance slouched in the passenger's seat and prayed for Keith to get him to practice in one piece. He would never complain about Hunk’s safe and practical driving ever again. It took nearly 20 minutes without much incident before the Mustang pulled up to the front of the school. Lance collected his bag and both smoothies as he got out of the car. He smacked his hip against the passenger's door to snap it closed, his gym bag jumping with the motion.

Lance poked his head through the opened window. “Thanks for the ride, you seriously saved my life.”

Keith shrugged, “Don’t get any ideas.” He picked up his cup and sipped the straw. “I only did it for the smoothie.”

“You’re such an ass,” Lance scoffed with a smile.

“Need a ride later?”

Of all the things that had happened that morning, Keith offering to pick him up later was absolutely the _last_ thing Lance had expected. Shyly he bit down on his bottom lip. “I, um, Hunk and I have a thing later.” He watched Keith nod slowly, a flash of something in his eyes that Lance couldn’t quite catch. “But I’ll text you later?”  

“Yeah, let me know you made it home okay,” Keith added, giving him a soft glance from the corner of his eye.

Lance smiled and nodded before stepping back and watching Keith drive out of the parking lot and down the road until he was out of sight. The brunette spun on his heels, practically bubbling inside but froze. Coming out of the front doors were two pretty girls, both scowling with lips curled bitterly. Two girls he knew full well had made claims about riding around in Keith’s car. Those expressions on their face screamed jealousy.

He straightened his back and confidently walked past them, winking as he entered the school. The two whispered, but nothing they or anyone else had to say could take the wind out of his sails today. They had never ridden in Keith’s car before, Lace was sure of it now. But _he_ certainly had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close calls and crossed lines - Jubi
> 
> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	5. [00:05:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith moved over to lean back near the fridge, eyes dancing on the movement of Lance’s legs, before replying, “Then may the best man win.” He lifted his bottle and tilted it towards Lance before taking a drink. A toast to the challenge to come. 
> 
> Lance returned the gesture and with it his best smile. “Oh I intend to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see! sorry, we've both been busy! here's a new chapter - dedicated to our beta SeaBreezy! Happy birthday Rhys! Hope you had a good 21st!! 
> 
> Check Rhys out on tumblr: http://seabreezy.tumblr.com/ for amazing fics, art and merch!

 

 

 -[00:05:00]-

* * *

 

Whatever he had started to feel about seeing Lance nearly every week was put on hold for midterms. Lance had texted him barely a week after he dropped him off at dance practice to declare that they’d be on a hiatus until midterms were over - and that he had already made a blog post about it. He was definitely fine with it, even though the tab to Pornhub stayed open on his browser for days since. Whenever Shiro glanced at his screen while he was studying in the living room, he could hear his brother snort immediately but it almost didn’t even bother him. Like sure he tossed his flip flop as Shiro fled to the kitchen, but it didn’t even piss him off that bad.

Besides, Keith still saw Lance around campus. Their university wasn’t small at all, but everywhere he turned he glimpsed Lance on the library steps or crossing the street at the red light.

Even now, approaching the local cafe on the corner of campus, he could easily spot Lance’s ruffled curly head face down on the table in the window. He paused as he passed, looking down at Lance’s nearly-lifeless body slumped in the middle of open textbooks, scattered highlighters and a blinking empty word document on the laptop pushed off to the side.

When he stepped in, the door to the cafe rang gently. Lance twitched, turning to squish his cheek onto the table. They locked eyes, but Lance made no move beyond staring.

He almost snorted, smirking at the visibly darkened swaths under Lance’s eyes. Keith turned to break eye contact, stepping toward the counter to order from the barista. She too looked exhausted, flipping through a textbook behind the register and slowly ringing him up. The two coffees came quick enough, with his full name scribbled on the cup in sharpie despite not even giving her a name at all.

Lance sat up straight as he approached, his glasses slanted on his nose and hair absolutely unruly, hands reaching out for the spare coffee before Keith could even offer it to him. Lance very nearly tossed his head back to take a huge gulp as Keith sat opposite, and let out a large gracious sigh.

“Honestly, thank you so much, Keith,” Lance sunk in his chair, lolling his head to the side, “you think I can get a shot of tequila with this?”

He set his things onto the table, trying not to smile. “...Isn’t both caffeine and alcohol bad for your skin when you’re stressed?”

“Yeah,” Lance whined, leaning forward to place his chin on the table again, “But this midterm for Astronomy has been killing me. If I had an idea of how tough Coran would be with these assignments, maybe I shouldn’t have begged to be in the class at all.”

Keith looked down to the assignment hand-out tucked in his notebook, propping his chin on his palm and raised an eyebrow, “Study.”

Lance groaned, tilting back and hanging his head off the back of the chair, “That’s easy for you to say. You’re a STEM major prodigy.”

Keith took a sip of his coffee, glancing down at his phone as it vibrated with a text message. The plethora of emojis Pidge put next to her name in his phone were vibrant on his dulled screen, the message saying something about later.

He looked up. Before he could stop himself, “I’m studying at Pidge’s soon. Wanna come?...Hunk too.”

Lance bolted up and leaned forward, some slow smile twisting on his face and eyes twinkling behind his glasses. Half of him smirks at Lance’s rush to gather up his stuff, half of him grips his coffee just a bit more because of how easily Lance brightened up for him.

The barista looked up as they left, over the top of her textbooks as they made their way to his car. Lance led the way, arms full of his laptop and books, easily sliding his way over to Keith’s car like it was his too. Jolts of electricity ran up his finger as he unlocked the car and watch Lance load himself in before following.

It was a sense of pride, maybe? The rush of having Lance McClain in his front seat - long limbed and tan against the black interior of his prized mustang in a tiny little crop and fuzzy hair. The Lance McClain who easily won over so many with a glinting white smile, rolled his hips like he was born to throw it back and whose name flitted around campus on everyone’s tongues.

It was something else than watching Lance throughout classes, or jacking off to him. What mere image that had danced at those parties, laughed heartily with Hunk in the cafe, instead was sitting in the flesh in his passenger seat, tapping fingers on the leather. Lance McClain, some kind of reincarnation of Apollo, who he had _fucked,_ who he maybe had feelings for, in the passenger seat of Red.

Those thoughts were hard to leave his brain, even as he led Lance to Pidge’s apartment and met up with Hunk in the hallway.

Hunk and Lance chattered in Pidge’s doorway, Hunk looking nearly as drained as Lance himself but just a tad more relaxed. When Pidge opened the door finally, Hunk caught Keith’s staring and looked at him with high eyebrows and a kind smile before ushering him through.

The jackhammering of his heart could wait - they all had a paper to do.  


 

* * *

 

 

Lance didn’t last an hour.

Everyone hunkered down somewhere in the Livingroom with their notes and went to it. Lance lay on his stomach on the carpet, his laptop and two text books open and a binder of loose leaf notes. Even with Hunk’s ambient playlist going in the background, Lance found concentration more and more difficult. He sighed quietly, cradling his chin in his hand and stole a glance around the room. Surely someone else had to be struggling, right?

Hunk and Pidge sat opposite at the dining room table crunching equations. Lance _knew_ they weren't having any problems. They probably didn’t even need the extra study time really. Keith sat on the couch, legs stretched out with an open binder in his lap. He absently stuck his thumb nail between his teeth as he thumbed through the pages, but otherwise appeared to be just fine. He was very fine. More than fine. He was _Fine._ The darkness of Pidge’s dusky apartment softened a shadow against the concave of Keith’s high cheekbone, cutting down his jawline.

“Are you stuck?” Keith was looking down at him, dark eyes lazy but imploring, and fringe drooping over the highlights and shadows Lance was just studying. He’d been staring. He hadn't meant to, he especially hadn’t meant to get caught. Lance’s eyes widened.

“I uh, um-” he sputtered, ducking down to look at the same pages he had been stuck on for an eternity. It all just looked like blocks of black ink, words without meaning. He chewed on the inside of his cheek trying to ignore Keith's gaze and the warmth spreading over his cheeks. Lance didn’t want to admit it, but he was stuck.

Stuck on a lot of things. Like that jawline.

“Kinda, yeah.” he muttered as he flipped a page only to be met with more confusing text than the last. Lance tried not to appear disheveled when Keith moved from the couch to sit beside him.

“Here, let me see.” Keith took Lance’s notes, warm fingers flipping back to the page he had been on previously..

“Well, none of it makes any sense to me…” He ran anxious hands through his hair - god it was stupid to think the smartest guy in class was going to pay him any mind when Keith barely had to study himself -

Keith trained his eyes on the page before glancing up to Lance. “You’re overthinking it.” He flipped back to the notes Lance had written during the last lecture, scrawled in legible blue cursive with large loops. Keith reached over to his own notebook, flicking his page of notes open to place next to Lance’s. Keith’s thin scribbles were condensed, definitely smaller and made with gel ink black smudges. A simple diagram sat in the margins with nearly illegible tiny notes, and Lance had to squint behind his glasses to even see the notes in the lines so _forget_ reading the margins.

Keith clicked his tongue, “Well there’s your problem, your notes are wrong.”

Lance whipped his head from the notes up, glaring at Keith. “Hold the phone,” Lance cocked an eyebrow. “Gimme that.” Keith allowed Lance to swipe the binder from his lap without protest. His notes? Wrong? Impossible. He went above and beyond to make sure his notes were perfect, he even recorded lectures, how could his notes possibly be wrong? “Dude, what are you even talking about, my notes are just fine?”

“Definitely not.” Keith placed his pointer finger to his smudged notes.

“According toooo?”

“I’ve got front row notes on this lecture and _yours”,_ He tapped his finger against the lined paper, “are wrong.”

Lance squinted dubiously. Just because Keith was a STEM major, that made him right in all aspects? Not likely. Yet here he was looking at Lance with that stupid smug… adorable… face. Damn it all. But there was no real way to prove his notes correct, he didn't have it in him to read anything else nor did he have his tape recorder. He desperately needed a break, and if he were to be frank, everyone, Keith included, looked like they needed a distraction. So, he did what he did best. Deflect.

“Alright, Mario Kart. I challenge you. Winner is right.”

Even Pidge and Hunk had stopped their studies at this point, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and mischief before they murmured a few exchanges.

“Winning at Mario Kart doesn't make your notes right, Lance.” Keith deadpanned, and Pidge snorted from across the room.

He very nearly pouted, “You're just scared I'll own your ass on Rainbow Road.”

But Keith didn't say a word, his brows just disappearing into his inky fringe and making Lance freeze when he realized his word choice. Deflect, _deflect._ He whirled to his feet, and around, pointing to Hunk. “Buddy, get on the phone and get that ‘zza. Time to watch me kick Keith’s ass in Mario Kart!”

Hunk grinned, Dominos on speed dial. “Tournament meal?”

“You know it.”

“Thank god. Even I can't take another quantum physics chapter.” Pidge rubbed her eyes under her glasses before hopping out of her chair to set up the game console and TV.

 _Success._ Lance slammed his binder and books closed, shutting off his computer with a flourish. Not that he didn't expect his little plan to work. Pidge was the brains, Hunk was the cuddly moral compass, and Lance kept them from overworking. He threw his books into his backpack and tapped Keith’s shoulder as he passed him to set his backpack down by the couch.

Pidge always keep her fridge stocked, so when Lance opened the door in the kitchen, he wasn't surprised to find chilled beers on the middle shelf. He leaned in and began examining labels. Seagrams were nice. Easy to drink and good flavors. Pabst Blue Ribbon, he hadn't tried that yet. Bud Lite… Lance grimaced. Bud Lite was for rednecks with beer guts, no thanks. A beer gut was not in his future.

“This is supposed to be a study session,” Keith’s voice floated in from behind.

Lance felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Rather than give the nerves in his fluttering gut a passing thought, he grabbed two PBRs and pushed the door closed with a swing of his hip.

“We studied,” he said as he smiled and handed the chilled can to Keith and tilted his head innocently.

Keith shook his head disappointedly and took the bottle, his fingers brushing against Lance’s as he did. He must’ve noticed the way Lance’s eyes widened, how quickly he pulled his hand away when he was sure Keith had a grasp on it. From the living room comes a crash, followed by Pidge’s screeching over the fragility of their TV set up and their carefully untangled wires. Keith turned his attention to the chatter. His tank top shifted with him, exposing the defined planes of his chest.

A sharp breath caught in Lance’s throat. It really just wasn’t fair. Being struck with the memory of waking up next to Keith just by watching the muscles flex under his skin. His dark tresses tied up in a elastic band exposing the neck that he’d bruised with his lips time and time again and - _Ah!_ _Stop it McClain._

“Besides, oh brilliant one.” Lance continued as he set his bottle on the kitchen island just out of the way, grabbing Keith’s attention once more. Lance needed to cool off. He clenched his fists on the counter; an attempt to ground himself in the here and now, before pulling himself up to sit upon it. “We’ve been cramming for weeks. It's not like anyone is gonna fail.” He popped the tab and tilted his head back for a drink.

Keith moved over to lean back near the fridge, eyes dancing on the movement of Lance’s legs, before replying, “Then may the best man win.” He lifted his bottle and tilted it towards Lance before taking a drink. A toast to the challenge to come.

Lance returned the gesture and with it his best smile. “Oh I intend to.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Blue Shell hovered for half a second before utterly crushing Lance’s peachy pink fourwheeler, sending Princess Peach sprawling as Keith’s Shy Guy rolled past. The Rainbow Road theme seemed to buzz in the background of his head, playing footsie with his second shot of tequila and his third PBR. Keith snorted above him as he attempted to send three green shells his way, successfully wiping out no one but himself. Pidge had passed him into third place, followed by the AI Wario, leaving the first year shrilling copying Toad’s tiny cry next to him.

“Shut _up_ Pidge!” He whined, knocking the cold of his beer can under the hem of Pidge’s t-shirt sleeve and making them squeal. He pushed Peach back forward, nearly clipping off the edge of Rainbow Road entirely trying to catch him as Hunk trucked on past as Baby Luigi.

He hit a sweet boost pad, rocketing past Hunk and spinning out Pidge on the way back to the front. Pidge very nearly shrieked as she spiraled off Rainbow Road to the abyss below, Hunk reaching over to cover her mouth with a panicked “Shh! Your neighbors!”  
  
In response, he cackled, tipping the rest of his PBR into his mouth and swishing it as he pushed himself to the front and let the clear cube gamble tick into the three mushroom speed boost before using all at once with his drunken stuttering thumb. Shy Guy was just within his reach, and the finishing line only mere seconds away.

He hit forward on his knees, “Yes! YES!” And just as he had nearly burnt out his eyeballs by pressing his face as close to the TV screen as his drunken knees could take him, Keith sent back a straight green shell and knocked Peach flat on her ass.

“How does my entire ass taste?” Keith deadpan muttered as he skidded right over the finish line and knocked back his beer with one hand.

Pidge immediately howled with joy, Hunk snorting hard before pressing his laughter into a palm. The fresh sting of defeat hit his hazy, drunken mind, and he whirled around to look at Keith with knit eyebrows and disbelief. Keith stared right back, his own tipsy flush across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, crushing the can in one hand.

“I won.” He stated, blunt and unyielding with his gaze.

The prickle of heat rose up the back of his neck, fingers going slack around the controller and mouth going dry at Keith’s darken eyes. He gulped dry, tossed his controller off in the direction of Pidge’s dead body, slumped and still guffawing and did what he could do. _Deflect._

“Movie time!” His voice cracked, scrambling to his feet, “Pidge pick _one_.” His socks rubbed against the carpet on the way to the kitchen. He definitely needed a third shot of tequila after that.

 

* * *

 

 

Mario Party dissolved into Boogeyman 2 and Lance’s three shots of tequila was starting to get the better of all of them. All of them because he couldn’t stop putting his heels onto Pidge’s shoulders, or digging his chin into Hunk’s shoulder trying to read his text messages. Pidge was gradually getting more and more annoyed, while Hunk huffed soft laughter and played along but Keith? He was enthralled. It was the fourth beer definitely that found Lance’s drunken antics adorable.

Was he an idiot for thinking Lance McClain was cuter drunk in glasses, no makeup, and shrieking curse words every time the Boogeyman jumped at the screen or gore reared its ugly head?

He needed to rub his temples, maybe knock the butt of his beer can against his forehead for some extra hydration. Would that work? He was thirsty maybe? Did he require water? It was already past tipsy for him, heating the tops of his cheeks with a rosy, Asian glow. Rather than disturb Lance tucked into his side, who had immediately wedged himself in the opening of Keith’s side when he laid his arm across the back of the couch after being physically hissed at by Pidge for bothering her too, he sunk further into the cushions. Hydration could wait.

The Boogeyman decided to utterly decimate a character on screen, sending Hunk into a fit of whimpers and Pidge eagerly leaning forever with their popcorn. Lance did nothing but snuggle closer into Keith’s side, the warm prickle of his breath on the low exposed arm hole of Keith’s tank top. His small gasp smelled of entirely tequila as yet another character was murdered within the same few minutes.

It was getting faster paced, the movie with all its jump scares. He could hardly pay attention to what was going on with the stuttering gasps and jumps of Lance’s shoulders, and instead decided to hyper focus on not moving. He even tried to shallow out his breaths as Lance placed a heavy hand on his thigh when the Boogeyman manifested into some ghastly form. Was he doing this on purpose - was _this like subtle flirting -_

Lance jolted hard, utterly throwing his forehead into Keith’s sternum and crashing the arm balancing on Keith’s thigh forward. The splash of full beer can drizzled the lower half of Lance’s chin, but the majority of the spillage hit and coated the front of Keith’s tank top. The overwhelming smell of alcohol stung his already drunk nose, wet and sticky on the lower half of Lance’s face and leaving him stunned to the splash and the stench. Keith sputtered above him, shaking out the hand that previously held the can and picking at his wet tank top with the other. It happened so quick, he was dry and motionless in one second and sticky and jumpy in the next.

The lights pulled up, Pidge standing at the light switch with her hands on her hips. Hunk breathed some heavy sigh at the brightened room, lowering his palms away from his face and scrambling out of the hood of his sweatshirt.

“On my couch, Lance, really?” Pidge groaned, shaking her head as she padded over to the kitchen. Keith stood, Lance nearly tumbling from his position against him but ultimately leaning back onto the couch as Keith began to follow Pidge to the kitchen. She immediately reappeared with paper towels and knit eyebrows.  
  
“Hell no Keith, get a spare shirt from upstairs. I think Matt has a few of Shiro’s… if not you can borrow one of his.” Pidge waved him off, placing a firm tiny palm on his back and pushing him off towards the dark hallway near the bedrooms.

Keith didn’t care about the blame, didn’t care about where he got new clothes from as long as he got the drenched ones off. He grimaced at the feeling of beer and fabric against his skin, the new flush of slight embarrassment and ambled down the hallway towards Matt’s room.

 

* * *

 

Lance uttered a thousand apologizes and empty - to Pidge’s ears - promises of replacing the couch through a sea of giggles. Aside from the scare, he was unscathed. And frankly, that ticked Pidge off. How did someone get so lucky? It only took a firm look from her to get Lance to sit still while she dabbed at the spilled beer before it could stain forever.

He should apologize.

Sure it was an accident, but it was he who had gotten alcohol all over Keith’s shirt, which was a total party foul. The consequences upon which could vary depending on the person, and spilling a drink on your friend could be laughed off.

But Keith didn’t appear to be laughing when he left.

Lance sprung up on wobbly legs and scooted past Hunk and Pidge who remained focused on saving the couch, giving him the opportunity to sneak away. He’d been over a few times, so even in a tipsy stupor, he knew how to get to Matt’s door. A small dizzy spell hit him, making him lean against the ajar door for support. Lance put too much faith in his ability to stay in his feet. The door flew open and he fell backwards, lanky arms windmilling and reaching for _anything_ but missing _everything._

The door opened and he spilled into the room. Miraculously he didn’t fall on his ass. He snickered to himself on his “grace”, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

“Ahem…”

He turned.

Keith stood behind him, hair askew, arms inside a clean shirt ready to pull over his head and jeans unbuttoned and open just enough for Lance to see the the elastic of his briefs and even a little lower.  It had been one thing, dealing with the subtle touches and glances. The laughter. The shared, knowing looks. At least he had the alcohol to help him cope, and the company of others to keep him focused from doing something reckless in front of them.

But here in a bedroom alone, with Keith already half naked and the stiffening member in Lance’s pants, what was to stop him from jumping Keith right here and now? A sense of morality maybe? He worried at his bottom lip and shifted his eyes away from Keith. This was... this was becoming too regular. Even now he could see, doing these cam shows on the fly just because he was drunk and just because Keith was there looking drop dead gorgeous every time… it was starting to feel less like work.

They shared a look, and for a moment,  Lance was almost positive they were sharing the same thought. That glow left Keith’s face and a paler complexion. He began to slowly put on the shirt over his head. Mentally Lance whined at the loss and began to extend his hand out the Keith.

Two things happened almost simultaneously.

One… Matt, home from a late night study session at the library - something Pidge had mentioned hours ago and had been forgotten about during all of the festivities - appeared in the doorway of his room. Backpack hanging off his slack shoulder and heavy bagged eyes behind his glasses.

Two… Pidge sprinted down the hall, her socked feet echoing through the walls. She threw herself into the room, past Matt and thrust herself with arms extended to separate Lance and Keith from whatever unholy acts they could have been committing in her brother’s room. She tossed  mistrustful look between the boys before landing her gaze on Keith.

She jabbed a tiny finger into his bare chest, “You. Put a shirt on.” Then she turned to Lance. “And you. Get outta here. _Go fix my couch.”_ She fisted her hand into the front of Lance’s shirt and dragged him behind her as she leaves the room, giving Keith one more squint.

Matt’s face twisted in confusion. He looked at Keith then poked his head out into the hallway. “Wait, what happened to the couch?”

Shiro had left only the oldest, nastiest t-shirt at Matt’s, of course. A holey Voltron: Defender of the Universe t-shirt practically small enough that he was almost sure Shiro had tossed it into the abyss of Matt’s room when _he_ was an undergrad. Hunk grinned wide at his shirt as he passed the kitchen for the living room, where Lance had somehow managed to clean most of the nice sofa whilst being drunk enough to nearly stumble over Pidge when he attempted to stand on his feet again.

It took him a second but then Lance had lurched forward into an upright position, using Pidge as a guide, and they met eyes as he stood in the doorway into the living room. Whatever moment had fleetingly passed in Matt Holt’s bedroom lingered in the way Lance flickers his eyes anywhere but Keith’s eyes, even attempting to veer in a diagonal movement to avoid passing him in the doorway all together.

Pidge looked oddly on behind Lance, eyebrows furrowed and flicking between the two of them. He inwardly groaned. Pidge had already been able to catch onto the meetings they had to exchange money, now she was clearly noticing. Fuck. The last thing he needed was Pidge to know, then Matt would know, and then _Shiro_ would know.

Lance attempted to scramble past, acting like Keith was the floor in a game of the Floor is Magma when he reached out and clasped the upper part of Lance’s forearm. The effective stop had them locking eyes instantly in the small doorway.  
  
This attempt at knowing - and fucking - Lance McClain was turning into a dangerous game. He was playing with fire, especially the blue one in Lance’s eyes. They didn’t have a moment to dwell, or chat, with the beady eyes of Pidge trained on them only feet away.

Keith swallowed, “Need a ride home?”

And again was that smile, lighting up every corner of Pidge’s apartment and pulling Keith in just a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	6. [00:06:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And now,” It was like she perked up, he could hear her smiling into the microphone, “our last performance of the night! Lance and Allura, dancing to Tinashe’s Party Favors!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early friday morning, got work in 3 hours, but still here to present the new chapter! we're gonna try real hard to give you guys weekly updates every friday! i'll kick both my own and jubi's ass if i gotta! thanks for staying with us!!!
> 
> the routine lance & allura do is the first one in this video, with added tweaks from myself!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyx4Ry6jGMI

 

\- [00:06:00] -

* * *

 

 

Midterms was kicking his ass particularly well this week. Was it the lack of sleep or his brother _still_ demanding time to go to the gym? He hated to admit it but he was particularly missing a tall, lanky, brown-haired, tan-skinned boy with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. That in itself was sappy, but Lance was never around anymore. Forget camming, he hadn’t physically _seen_ Lance for days.

That’s why it didn’t come as a surprise that his dance midterm was apparently that very weekend. According to Hunk, he was even practicing in the middle of the night. It seemed excessive to him, but Keith was a science major. Performing Arts had never seemed hard, but if it did take all that practice, he was honestly impressed.

He kicked his feet up on the coffee table at Hunk’s. It was also Lance’s place, but mostly Hunk’s currently. Pidge laid strewn across his lap, fidgeting on her laptop and wrinkling her nose every time he tried to push her off.

“Keith!” Hunk called from the kitchen and he lifted his head from his math textbook to spy him just beyond the kitchen island.

“Yeah?”  
  
“So Lance’s midterm,” Hunk walked around the island with three mugs of tea, handing them off, “it’s this Saturday around 9. Did you want to meet us there?”

He blinked, mostly in surprise because beyond the occasional hanging out, he and Lance were not usually seen together unless… on a camera in private. Pidge planted her elbow in his thigh, deep enough for him to jump and nearly kick her off the couch altogether. She basically hissed at him before burying herself in the tea Hunk made.

“Uh…” He paused, because Saturdays were hard. Shiro loved night-time gym runs on Saturday, especially since apparently if Keith was out at the gym with Shiro, he wouldn’t get into trouble. Where Shiro got the idea that he’d be out causing trouble on a Saturday night instead of chilling with his cat at home and maybe jacking off, he’d never know.

Pidge interrupted before he could say anything, slurping her tea loudly, “Shiro is already going.”

  
He raised his eyebrows. Now _that_ was surprising. When was the last time Shiro had plans to go to anything beyond the gym and class, let alone on a Saturday night? Like maybe when he was an undergrad and in a frat, but that was _years_ ago. He again opened his mouth, but Pidge interrupted again.

Her smirk was wide, and devilish in that it curled at the ends. Her glasses flashed almost, lips puckered out to slurp again, “He’s infatuated with Lance’s grad student dance partner.” 

Allura? He had seen her once when she came to pick up Lance in the library so many weeks ago. Was it two months already? And wait, she was a grad student? She looked younger than Lance did. It surprised him even more that Shiro had a crush in general - because the last time Shiro did was when he and Matt dated in, what, eleventh grade?

He blinked from Pidge to Hunk, who was smiling right back. Like he knew his answer already.

Keith sheepishly looked down to his textbook, pulling his feet off of Hunk’s coffee table. “Yeah, I’ll go.” He said, wondering if Hunk and Pidge knew, and if they did, how much…  
  


* * *

 

 

He met up with Pidge in front of the Arts building on Saturday at around 8:15, a good fifteen minutes before they were supposed to. She was already out front though, in a shirt she was practically swimming in and fishnets, the increasingly neo style she had donned the second she was free making the both of them look like they were late for a concert. His leather jacket and black ripped jeans did not help their case.

“You’re late.” Pidge groaned, even though he wasn’t and he raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms, “I’m cold. Let’s go.”

So they were going to be 45 minutes early, that wasn’t too bad, right…? Was it as awkward as he felt to show up so early to Lance’s performance? Or to even show up at all without Lance knowing or asking? He had known the performance _was_ a thing at least, because Lance had been moaning about sore muscles at all of their study sessions for the past couple weeks. Lance hadn’t explicitly asked, and even though Hunk and Pidge had vehemently encouraged him that Lance would not give a shit if he went - maybe he wanted Lance to give a shit?

They wandered the halls of the Art building, following handmade signs to a room at the end of the Dance wing. At the ticket table just before the door, a volunteer sold them tickets for half price - despite the lack of a student discount and definitely not because either of them asked. Pidge grinned wide and he nodded thanks as they went in, nearly tripping over Pidge as she attempted to check out the volunteer once last time before they passed in.

“Gay.” He commented.

She immediately spiked up with the ever so classic, “Look who’s talking!” before she scrambled away and left him to squint around the room by himself.

The room was dark, with crimson red pouring from neon lights situated at the back of a small pull out stage that stood a good five feet from the ground. A small bar was set in the corner, and people milled around in the musky air. It felt like a party more than a midterm performance, but the dance course at their university had always been somewhat rowdy. A few coaches he recognized sat with their course head near the stage, with clipboards and glasses of milky looking liquid. When he turned, Pidge was helping herself to the bar. It was obviously nonalcoholic, otherwise Pidge would be thrown out by the collar of her shirt.

When he turned back to the crowd and stepped closer to the stage, he caught no one’s eye. He recognized next to no one beyond the teachers, and that was solely Shiro’s fault. Speaking of… He turned slowly, in a full circle, noticing how slowly the room started to fill up more and more with people he didn’t recognize either. Shiro was nowhere to be seen. His brother had mentioned earlier that turnout for the midterm performance was usually low and yet soon enough the room was utterly packed with people. So much so that Pidge had to practically swim her way through the crowd to him, almost spilling her double shots of cranberry juice.

“Fuckin’ art majors.” Pidge grumbled, eyeing the tiny hemline of a dude who had nearly nailed her in the head with his elbow. He smirked, about to mention that it wasn’t the skimpily dressed man’s fault that she was a solid 3’9 on a good day when a large warm hand clapped down onto his shoulder.

If he wasn’t so used to his brother’s overly endearing claps on the back, he would’ve shoved his palm right into the offender’s nose. He turned to see Shiro, Hunk surprisingly on his brother’s other side. An odd pair in that he had no idea they knew each other, but that had to wait due to the enormous bundle of flowers held in Shiro’s other arm.

“Holy shit.” He gaped. There were at least a couple dozen roses, and other pink and white flowers he didn’t recognize - all together so many flowers that petals were literally covering Shiro in his purple shirt, and spiralling down to the ground every so often.

“Did you rob a flower shop?” Pidge cawed, leaning over, “Without me? Shiro!”

He smiled, rosy in the cheeks. “No, it’s - uh…”

Hunk popped in with a cheeky grin, “For Allura. I found him outside in his car with petals falling out of the windows.”

Pidge snickered, picking petals off of the ground to toss at Shiro. Keith just frowned, looking at the pile of fresh flowers. Should… he have done that? Would Lance like flowers? He cleared his throat, and his head, looking to his brother again, “Won’t they wilt by the time Allura is on?”

Shiro was already frowning, but Hunk was the one who answered, “Oh no. They should be okay. There’s only a block of four groups dancing today. Lance and Allura are last but it won’t take long.” He grinned at them, before turning to some guys, presumably his frat brothers, to wave hi. Keith turned back to the the stage. They had front row now that the room was so crammed. Pidge was just tall enough to maybe place her chin on the stage itself, and he watched as she drained the second cranberry juice shot. It was stifling now with the crowd, so he tapped Pidge on the shoulder and nodded to bar. She nodded back, he was glad she understood him well enough. He pushed through bodies to the bar, only to get a water and sit on a bar stool as a girl with a shaved side head of pink hair and a microphone popped out of stage left.

“Alright alright, everyone bring it in, we’re starting,” She droned on, deadpan but easily reeling in the crowd, “welcome to the...IDK, 45th? Maybe….” She paused to listen to someone off stage, “Yup, 45th Midterm Dance Show put on here by the Kaufman Performing Arts fund. Turnout is crazy this year, thanks to Delta Lambda Phi-” There was a roar from Hunk’s fraternity brothers, accompanied by hollering- “You guys are like the only good fraternity. Anyways, first up we have the trio of Olkari siblings - everyone give them a hand. Here they are performing to Madeon’s _Imperium_.”

The girl slipped between the curtains only to be replaced by the Olkari sibling jogging onto the stage. They were a trio of look-alikes with painted faces and shimmery outfits. Some electronic music, the type that would play at the raves Pidge so loved, pummeled the speakers as they split off into some routine that involved a lot of footwork and minimal work anywhere else. It looked impressive, to him at least, but the coaches didn’t look too happy. One kept wincing and the other two scribbled hard on their clipboards. A few girls feet away from him kept oohing, but not in a good way. He clapped anyways and ordered another water.

It felt better than sliding between sticky bodies in front of the stage, and if he was going to do that for Lance and Allura’s dance, he opted to just sit at the bar until they came on.

After the song ended and the Olkari siblings left the stage, again the girl popped out of the curtains. “Yay,” She was just as much as deadpan as before, “Now we’re going to have our second performance tonight. Nyma and Rolo performing to a remix of _Put Your Head On My Shoulder._ ”

The next group was a duo, like Lance and Allura. The hair on the back of his neck tickled, presumably because the duo would be the competition Lance and Allura would have to beat. Or at least he assumed. The cup of water dripped condensation onto his fingers and he wiped them on his jeans as the music started. This time it was some rap-remix of an early 60’s song, Paul Anka crooning in the background as synth beats pushed the duo into some crazy street dance routine. They did what Keith assumed was just called “The Robot”, something Shiro loved to imitate when he was three whiskeys in and ready to have a good time for once, but the girls near him called it “popping”.

The duo was good, insanely so. He furrowed his brow, watching how the guy, with his weird aviator hat and goggles, literally tossed the blond girl around like she was a kite. When he turned his eyes to the coaches, one of them looked enthralled, like she was speechless. So one out of three. That was better than the first trio. Wow he wanted a drink.

Lance had been skipping out on a lot to practice with Allura. He didn’t do weekly movie times with Pidge and Hunk anymore (he only knew because Pidge kept complaining) and he would even pass up on study sessions with all four of them in order to squeeze in more practice. Every time Keith caught a glimpse of Lance around campus, he could only see the ever-so-darkening circles under his blue eyes. Almost as if he was skipping out on sleep entirely, and Keith didn’t doubt it if it meant Lance was up at all hours of the night practicing the routine he had with Allura.

The duo finished, and tracked off the stage, waving. They got an astounding amount of applause, and even the professor laughed as the girl blew kisses over to the three judges. He didn’t even stay for the girl to pop out of the curtain and introduce the next trio, instead heading to the bathroom. Maybe two waters was too much.

He attempted to ignore the couple obnoxiously arguing in the hallway near the bathrooms, and continued on his way to the men’s restroom at the end of the hall. He paused halfway to watch the door to the backroom swing open, and maybe it was just his eyes giving him what he wanted to see but he swear he spied a mop of unstraightened brown hair he knew a bit too well, but instead of lingering creepily around to try and find out, he continued on.

When he returned to his friends in the crowd, the trio on stage currently were finishing up their act - very sloppily. In fact one of them almost knocked Pidge in the head with a very reckless spin kick, which resulting in excessive cursing on Pidge’s end - up until the music had ended and the girl had come right back out. He was a bit busy attempting to keep Pidge from crawling onto the stage in anger - wondering if those cranberry juices weren’t juice at all - when the girl announced Lance and Allura to the stage.

“ _And now_ ,” It was like she perked up, he could hear her smiling into the microphone, “our last performance of the night! Lance and Allura, dancing to Tinashe’s _Party Favors_!”

He looked up just in time to see the girl retreat into the curtains. The music kicked up to an empty stage, something sensual with the high voice of the singer humming stage. As the beat started, Allura pushed through the curtains and strutted onto stage. Lance followed shortly, both in a pair of gray joggers with Lance’s unstraightened curled locks tucked under a black backwards snapback and Allura’s stark white hair completely free.

Keith barely had time to register, much less memorize, the soft brown of Lance’s chest under that thin white t-shirt before they started dancing.

The singer started, and they pressed against each other, hovering close as they danced. Allura rolled her hands through her hair, stomach taunt and bare in a tiny crop top as Lance laced an arm around and pulled her to the side. Together they dropped to the floor, switching roles as Lance pushed forward to pull his legs apart and roll his hips upwards. His skin shone in the dark light, and Allura dropped into a very masculine plank hip roll behind him. It was jarring, watching Lance kick his ass back and roll on the stage.

The crowd adored the role switch, cheering and howling until it was deafening. Lance sat back on his heels and dipped his head back, before sliding forward on his forearms to, quite literally, roll his ass in the air. Allura pumped backward, in a bridge almost, before pinwheeling to her feet again. She stood back to dance, using footwork that almost blurred until Lance rolled forward to his knees and slid up, ass out, slowly, with Allura shadow-holding his hips. The ass jiggle on his way up, with Allura framing it as they both stood their full height and immediately dropped into a paired backbend had the entire room screaming.

His mouth was surprisingly dry, because he hadn’t really realized it was still agape. Together they flicked their wrists to the sky before Lance dropped, from his full height, down onto his elbows. Assumingly they switched roles again, as Allura flounced around to stand over him and this time Lance framing his partner’s ass jiggle. Allura stalked away, hips swinging as Lance slid on his knees, following behind.

When she turned, she placed her hand on the top of his hat, pushing his face in close before flipping him back until he slid down onto the hardwood. This time when they both rose, they were in sync.

They were good. Was he biased? He was so biased but they were so good.

They locked arms in sync, pumped in and out in sync, hips twisting and smiles wide. They were clearly having fun, as Allura turned away from the crowd but bent back to wink to the audience. When she dropped to the floor again, Lance followed. They twisted, crawling over and around each other, dipping forward and back. Allura slid to a side of the stage, doing her own thing as Lance crawled on his knees to the other side. Keith was practically glued on his hips, and how his dark skin was more prominent with the slick of sweat adhering the white t-shirt to it. They crawled to each other, Lance swinging around to be behind as they walked on their knees in sync, legs wide as they pushed up.

As the song dipped to a near, they rocked, laughing with each other. Allura snatched his snapback in the last minute, plopping it on her own head as they hooked arms over each other’s shoulders. The roar of the crowd was loud, and he would’ve joined if he wasn’t utterly speechless. The coaches, and the professor, were on their feet cheering. The girl announcer bounded out of the curtains with a wide grin on her face, “Give it up for Lance and Allura! And all of our dancers tonight!”

The other dancers came out, immediately flocking to Lance and Allura. In fact, much of the crowd did. Pidge was screaming, nearly crawling up onto the stage on her hands and knees. He went to stop her until Hunk’s entire frat stormed the stage _with_ her. Hunk was hollering, hands cupped around his mouth. The dancers, and all who crawled on the stage, made their way down. Shiro was immediately next to Allura, arms full of flowers. He watched as his brother presented her with them, a hand rubbing the back of his head nervously. The crowd cheered, and Allura’s smile was wider than it was when she was dancing.

He opted to watch from afar, seeing the other duo, Rolo and Nyma, approach Lance. He had plenty of people vying for his attention now, besides it was getting exceedingly fucking warm in the room. He passed by Lance’s little swarm on the way the doorway leading outside on the left, watching how the judges went up as well to talk to them.

Keith had no doubt in his mind that Lance, and Allura, had literally killed the midterm.

He pushed through the clear door to the tiny balcony off the side of the Arts building. It was dark, the only light from the street lamp near the corner of the building. He could see his car, just parked off the side down the road from the little stairs down from the balcony he stood on.

He went to the railing, arms propped up to lean over and look off into the night. He definitely needed a moment to cool off after watching Lance’s gorgeous hips swing like that.

 

* * *

 

The teams were to be graded on performance, technique, creativity, choreography, and presentation.

That much had been drilled into their heads since the start of the semester. While he had spent the better part of the last month assuring Allura that they had nothing to worry about whilst playing it cool, in truth he was filled with jitters. Every participating student huddled backstage doing any number of things to busy themselves while the crowds outside were entertained by the announcer. Some clustered in hushed chatter, others messed with their make up at the available vanities. Lance however found himself pressed close to the curtain, he pulled back the fabric and peered out at the crowd once more.

They had done a great job, right? The crowd ate it up so it stood to say that they had presentation down. Maybe. It was Lance’s idea to role reversal, playing up both Allura’s masculinity and Lance’s femininity. A big “screw you” to society's gender roles. Allura could kick any guy’s ass no question. Had they really liked it? Allura was a far better dancer, maybe they just cheered for her. Maybe he was holding her back? There were so many hip rolls, had he nailed every one? What if-

“What are you doing over here?”

Delicate fingers squeezed Lance’s shoulder. As if touched by hot metal, he jumped and turned, already preparing an excuse. But it was only Allura. Her smile dropped however. It contrasted against the bundle of gorgeous flowers in her arms, petals almost dragging against her neck and face.

“Are you nervous?” Allura dipped her head to him. He looked up, down, to the sides to try and avoid looking at her face. Butterflies were fluttering so far in the back of stomach, he could feel them on his spine. It was a definite ‘yes’, but before he could really answer, Lana announced each team out. Allura looked at him softly and helped usher him out to the stage with the hand on his shoulder. He could feel her comfort in the warmth of her palm.

The teams all returned to the stage greeted by a chorus of whistles and clapping. Even in the filled room, Lance could see Hunk. The big guy held his thumbs way up with a dazzling grin. The knot in Lance’s stomach loosened. Then Allura took his hand in hers like the goddamned angel she was and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The judges finished up their last critique before turning to Lance and Allura. Lance pressed his lips closed, trying to control his nerves. He and Allura squeezed hands to tightly as the judges began to break down their routine piece by piece.

The first judge to speak was Madam Alexandre, the Graduate program dance teacher and the program’s ballet specialist. She was Allura’s coach, and a hardass that had him nearly shaking in his nice Nikes on stage.

She spoke with a faint French accent, taping a fancy fountain pen against the top of the clipboard she held, “You two have some of the best chemistry we've seen in our years at this program. What you two have is rare, the body language and your expressions are phenomenal. We can read every emotion and you engage the crowd. Excellent work. I've got a great feeling about you two.”

He let out a breath, feeling Allura relax too next to him. He had taken a class with Madame Alexandre, but only one. He didn’t know how Allura did it as he vaguely remember the gruelling ballet class that had his ankles swollen after nearly every session. Next was Dr. Ruprecht. He was the head of the Performing Arts program on campus, and many of his friends in the dance course had complained about him being a judge in the midterms. He had never taught a dance class in his life, in fact he was a Theater teacher first and foremost. Watching the withered man flip through the papers, of which he didn’t read for any of the other teams, nearly made Lance vomit right there.

Dr. Ruprecht cleared his throat and looked over his spectacles, “God, you two look nervous.”

Everyone laughed and even Lance broke into a smile.

“Are you two nervous?”

They nodded.

The professor’s eyebrows raised, glancing up from the papers to them. “I don't know why. Your choreography was on fire. Those hip rolls, I was sweating. The role switching. That was by far my favorite part. I loved how you pushed the boundaries. Every single moment I watched, I said to myself ‘There's no way they can top this. This is it.’ And then you _did.”_

His eyes felt moist. Was it just him? The glittering eyes of Allura next to him said otherwise. The old man smiled as the crowd cheered softly. They had been quiet and respectful the entire time, but just like Lance, they were starting to get antsy.

Next was Daiki. Lance let himself breathe a tad. Daiki he knew. He was the undergraduate student’s dance coach, and had personally helped Lance enroll when he was just a highschooler. The short small man was an amazing b-boy, even so far as taking his own dance troop to the national levels when he was younger. He was a fantastic dancer and an even better teacher. Lance wasn’t less nervous, Daiki could and would be tough if need be, but he was familiar. Familiarity pulled him back from puking out of nervousness.

“You two,” Daiki started, holding his clipboard behind him and looking into the eyes of each team, one by one, “along with every single one of you up there, deserve to feel proud and accomplished. You did amazing out there.” Each team almost relaxed under the lights, and Lance started to nod gratefully when Daiki cut in again,

“Lance, you take direction so well, and you take every piece of advice given to you and you build off of it rather than taking it personal and I love that about you. Allura, your body moves in ways I didn't even think it could. This was fun and sexy and on point every single moment. Be proud, really. Don't be nervous. Have faith in yourselves because we have faith in you.”

He squeezed Allura’s hand hard, and with the other arm swiped at his eyes. They were really threatening to spill here, as the cheers of the crowd started. But then they were immediately cut off by Madame Alexandre, who stepped forward after Daiki and Dr. Ruprecht handed her their papers. She barely even looked at them, just offering the softest of smiles to the two of them.

“The midterm scoring, for your team,” Madame looked down to the papers and began to read off, “98, 100 and 99 for your final score, 99. The highest out of your grading group. Congratulations.”

Lance barely had time to process the news before the entire room erupted into a frenzy. Every body surged towards the stage like a tidal wave and surrounded Lance and Allura on all sides threatening to drown them with congratulatory remarks and clapping. Allura and Lance turned to each other in tears and embraced. All previous anxiety melted away, more than anything Lance was just happy to know that he had done right by her. The weeks of backbreaking practice and bickering over song choice had paid off.  

“Allura!”

The two separated and turned, watching Shiro push his way through the crowd. He and Allura started at one another for a tense second before he scooped her up and spun her, making her drop the bouquet he had given her before the judging. Large hands gripped Lance’s shoulders and shook him, he managed to turn only to be swarmed by Hunk and his frat brothers. Even Pidge gave him a smack on his arm. It was all she could reach. To know that all of these people truly believed in his and Allura’s talent was almost too much. He was going to spend weeks personally thanking everyone. And… maybe under it all, he was really enjoying the attention. But with all of those bodies pressed together, it was getting entirely too hot. As subtly as possible, Lance began to look for an escape.

“Dude! You did amazing!” Hunk grinned, patting him hard. Pidge was nodding and complaining about how he should be with all the movie nights he skipped to practice, but all he did was smile sheepishly as he surveyed the crowd and the people beyond. There were all these frat boys he had seen before, some a little too intimately in terms of knowing the inside of their mouths, and art kids from the building here to represent their majors. He spied the bar, darkened bodies in the low light. He squinted.

It was only for a second, but he could swear it was Keith. He recognized that mess of hair and leather jacket. Then it was gone. Through the side exit. Lance had made mention that the show was coming up, but he hadn’t invited Keith outright. He had thought about it, but lost the nerve. It wasn’t really Keith’s scene anyway Lance figured, so why the hell would he be here? Lance leaned towards Hunk and yelled about getting a drink before making his way through the swarm. When he came out on the other side, he nearly toppled over into the open floor from the sheer force he’d used to push through.

Lance made his way to the clear door and peered out into the balcony. There was only one person outside. They leaned over the railing with their back to the door. Lance pushed it open and stepped out into the chilly air. When the door shut behind it, the figure turned.

“Keith?” Lance’s stomach jumped.

“Hey.” Keith looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He grabbed the railing with one hand, then other scratching the back of his head. “Pidge and Hunk invited me out.” He smiled, answering the question that was surely written all over Lance’s face.

“Of course they did.” Lance chuckled. It made more sense than Keith just popping up on his own accord. Lance walked over to the edge of the balcony next to Keith and looked down. Some students were already making their way towards their cars. He folded his arms on top of the cool metal and rested his chin on them. “They’re good like that.”

“They are,” Keith pursed his lips together and exhaled slowly, “Good like that.”

In that moment, Lance was happy Keith wasn't facing him or else he would have seen the laugh threatening to leave him. How was someone so well liked and attractive so damn awkward? Lance managed a poker face just as Keith shifted next to him.

“I’ve never actually seen you dance before. You, _uh,_ you did awesome.” Lance turned his head and looked at Keith who in turn fixed his gaze up at the empty sky.

Lance scoffed loudly, “You don’t give out compliments very often.”

“Sure I do.” Keith looked down at Lance, laying his cheek against his own shoulder.

They stared at each other.

Keith broke first, raising his brows. “You can tell?”

“Yeah, you’re bad at it. But thank you.” Lance sat up again and bumped his shoulder against Keith’s. “I appreciate it.” He smiled shyly before looking back down at the street. He spotted a familiar cloud of white hair. Allura, and she was with someone. Lance cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted down “Allura!” She and her friend turned and looked around blindly. Lance called down to them again, this time they looked up at him. Their startled faces turned happy and they waved wildly back at him before heading off to the parking lot.

Lance tilted his head for a moment in thought. “Wasn’t that your brother?” he smirked.

Keith spun around spotted Shiro helping Allura into her car. His jaw went slack. Lance stepped back from the railing to hug his sides while he doubled over in laughter. Lance had been listening to Allura gush about Shiro for weeks now, but he hadn't expected the flowers. Least of all this. “Oh my god, that’s amazing. Looks like you’re gonna have the place to yourself tonight.”

He managed to stand again and wipe away the tears that had pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Any big plans?”

Keith shrugged “Ah, I dunno. Probably play with my cat and knock out for the night I guess.”

Lance’s face pinched in confusion. “You have a cat?

He nodded slowly. “Yup. Redrum. Technically she’s mine and Shiro’s, but she likes me better. But don’t tell him that, it might hurt his feelings.”

Still, Lance stared at Keith skeptically because he hadn’t seen a cat anywhere when he had been at Keith’s place.

“We were awfully busy last time you came over, so you might not have seen her.” Keith tucked his thumbs into his front pockets, looking up through his bangs with dark eyes.

Lance felt warmth creep up his neck as he choked. Though they’d had sex many times now, it always made his insides twist when Keith mentioned _that_ specific romp. Lance looked at Keith, ready with a smart remark and froze. The moonlight cut across Keith’s eyes just right, and even a sapphire couldn't hold a candle to the flame that danced behind. God, he was corny, but Keith’s dark eyes were beautiful. Lance managed to break his trance, shifting his gaze away as a chill rocked through his body.

Keith noticed, “Any plans for you?” He began to shrug out of his jacket. His leather jacket.

His _favorite_ jacket.

Oh no.

No no.

Lance formed a tight lipped smile and shook his head a little too quickly. Keith paused and looked at him in wide-eyed confusion before slowly putting the jacket back on but then out of the corner of his eye, Lance shudders a second time. Keith shakes his head and pulls the jacket off, despite Lance’s protesting.

“Come on Lance, you’re freezing.” he extends the jacket out to him.

The breeze was vicious against his flimsy shirt. Lance sighed and took the jacket and pulled it on. He zipped it up as far as it would go and settled into Keith’s warmth and the familiar scent of spicy musk and the faintest hint of soft cotton from the air freshener in his Mustang.

“Since midterms are over, I’ll probably just get back to work in all honesty.” Lance pulled the collar up to his chin to shield off the cold. “Speaking of,” he turned to Keith. “We got this huuuge request. If you’re still okay with all of this I was gonna check into a hotel Saturday?” Lance rocked on his heels in anticipation.

Keith wiped his thumb across the tip of his nose. “Yeah, yeah I’m down.”

It was the oddest thing. How they could have sex in front of thousands of people for money, yet they could barely hold a real conversation. Lance was well versed in things like what turned Keith on, he knew the tan birthmark on Keith’s thigh in the shape of half star **.** He could probably pick out Keith’s dick in a lineup at this point. But he didn't really know about Keith’s hobbies. Or what his favorite tv show was, but here he was wearing his leather jacket in the middle of the night like some after school special. Lance kicked at the ground with the toe of his sneaker. “So, I’ll just text you later? When I get home?”

Keith smiled wide. He actually showed teeth. God, he had pretty teeth. Lance knew that, but Keith rarely smiled like that so it shook him when he did. “Alright, sweet.”

Lance turned and looked at the door then back to Keith. “Okay, well I’m gonna go. Hunk and the others are probably looking for me. So yeah, when I make it home I’ll shoot you a message.”

The two back away from each other. Lance back to the glass door and Keith to the steps that lead from the balcony down to the street. They gaze at each other for a moment longer than was necessary before Lance bumped against the door. It shook against his weight and he turned, grabbing the handle. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, then opened it and headed inside for find his friends.  His stomach was full of butterflies. Only this time, it had nothing to do with dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS THE BEST THE DANCE SEQUENCE WAS SO NICE UGH - J
> 
> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	7. [00:07:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He combed his fingers through his hair. Tussled it and checked over his face in the mirror. “The thing is, they wanted something a little different this time. It’s not like a big deal or anything.” 
> 
> “Okay? So what’s the request?” There was a hint of hesitation in Keith’s voice.
> 
> “Well, they just really really want to see you bottom. Nothing too crazy.” It came out rushed. The words nearly running into one. He turned off the straightener and squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the answer. 
> 
> Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crazy long chapter for the insane support we've been shown! updates will now be every other week - we're both drowning in semester-stress! 
> 
> jubi and i (mai), we both worked very hard on this chapter! thanks to our beta, rhys, as always!
> 
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\- [00:07:00] -

 

 

* * *

 

The elevator doors closed and Lance pressed the button to the 5th floor. He had found the nicest hotel he could afford within the area for the impending show. With the amount charged for the private viewing and the number of people willing to pay to see it, well, he was able to afford to splurge a little. Lance looked down at his luggage for the night. A navy blue duffle bag with his change of clothes for the morning, his arsenal of skin care products (because he never left home for 24 hours without his Lush arsenal), and his sleeping clothes. Next to the duffle bag was the all-too-familiar pink Victoria Secret shopping bag, pale pink tissue paper peeking out from the top.

The previous day, he and Hunk had walked past the store at the mall during some down time. And maybe he saw something pretty shown off on a mannequin in the window. The colorful humming bird embroidery against the dark blue of the silk kimono caught his eye and held it. And maybe he hadn't been able to summon his impulse control even with Hunk there.

It wasn't like he couldn't afford it.

Lance tilted his head back against the glass and watched the floor numbers glow red as the elevator passed them. First, second, third. He flipped the key card between his fingers before lifting it to his eye level. It was black with gold script; the hotel name and a logo. It was the first time he had ever seen a card like it and if truth be told, he wished he could keep it. A memento of this special night.

His eyes widened and he shook that ridiculous thought from his head just as the elevator stopped at his floor. He grabbed his things before the door opened and hurried out. It was still early, which was good because there was a lot of prep to be done before Keith got there, including letting Keith know exactly where he was supposed to be. It was kind of weird really, the fact that he had rented out a _honeymoon suite._ Not that he had ever been in one before, but with his logic he figured it would be big enough for the two of them to live in for a night after the show. He wasn’t going to spend all that money on a room and not stay overnight. When he checked in, the woman at the front desk flashed him a coy smile before handing him has key and telling him to enjoy.

When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he understood her face expression. No pre competition jitters could compare to the way his stomach bottomed-out when he laid eyes on the room. The door shut behind him with a soft click, and he dropped his bags at his feet before slowly walking through the room. It was _huge._ The walls were a cream color and the living room had an red, L-shaped couch, a flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from the couch above a wooden dresser. On it was the menu for room service, the remote and TV channel card, as well as the door handle sign. Lance picked it up and read the flamboyant text “Do not disturb” in scrawled cursive. He laid it back down on the dresser. They would definitely be needing that.

He continued through the suite, spying a kitchenette and a small table with 2 chairs. _The bathroom had a half shower and a freaking hot tub._ It was all pretty cute until he got to the separated bedroom. He opened the door and his jaw hit the ground. It looked like cupid threw up all over the place, golden walls, a red mahogany desk and door frames. The balcony doors were accented with red and white chiffon curtains, and a big, tin lantern in front of the door.

The bed though. _That_ made his heart stop. He had expected it to be big, bigger than he and Keith really needed, but he had not expected to look like _that_ . Red and gold Egyptian silk sheets, soft, cloud-like pillows adorned in hearts shaped from rose petals. _Fucking rose petals._ In the very center of the bed was a wooden basket filled with fruit, chilled wine and two glasses. Against the basket was a large card that said “Happy Honeymoon” with a heart shaped box of chocolates all surrounded by…. You guessed it. More rose petals.  

That was just…. Entirely too much. Lance hadn’t told Keith about the hotel room exactly. Meaning he didn’t know how big it was or its original intended purpose. He couldn’t let Keith see all the mushy stuff. He hurried and gathered the petals in his arms and frantically looked for a wastebasket to dump them in. Jesus, they really went all out. Maybe he should have told the people he booked with that this wasn’t exactly a honeymoon and they didn’t need all this stuff, then again what would he look like telling them this was all for a cam show? God, they were going to get some looks during check out, he knew it.

Lance went back to the bed and sat down, sinking into the mattress a bit. Wow, it was nice. He snatched the card from behind him and pulled it out of its envelope and looked at the little, white, heterosexual couple warmly embracing before a sunset. He tsked and shook his head before tearing it in half over and over.   

Keith was going to make so many smart-assed comments, Lance knew it. He laid the shredded card on the bed and grabbed the basket, setting it in his lap. He went through the different fruits, grapes, strawberries, an entire pineapple? He picked a grape from the vine and popped it between his lips, then set the basket down and grabbed the wine bottle by the neck. Moet champagne, very nice. Lance peeled the foil and removed the cork with the wine opener that had been so courteously provided in the basket as well (Was there anything the staff hadn’t thought of? Bless them).

It was just so painfully romantic. After an incident where the video of the two of them fucking after that party weeks ago had been shared with a tag ‘cute boyfriends drunkenly fuck senseless’ on some viral forum, there had been an intense swarm of comments and rumors about the two of them actually dating. And with this setting for the video tonight, the rumor was going to blaze anew.

But was that _really_ so bad? It wasn't like Keith was a bad catch or anything. No, not at all. A little rough around the edges maybe, and out of touch with pop culture references (seriously who didn't know the ‘Oh shit whaddup’ meme?) but still. Afterall, he looked down at himself. He was wearing Keith’s leather jacket that he had so conveniently neglected to give back last weekend. If Pidge and Hunk had noticed how he kept it on all through their movie night after his midterm, they hadn’t said anything. He was acting just as foolish as those damn comments.

‘ _Well.’_ Lance thought almost bitterly as he poured himself a glass of wine before draining it. _‘Fuck it.’_

He corked the bottle and set it on the night stand. Mounted on the wall on either side of the headboard was a lush bouquet of pink flowers. Good grief. Lance shook his head and rose to his feet. He fished his phone out of his pocket and sent Keith a quick message:

_Hey, its room 520 :)_

_My shift ends in 2 hours_

_So I’ll be there around 7_

_Sounds good, see you soon ;)_

Lance glanced at the clock on his phone. It was rolling on 4:30pm. So he had until 7 to get himself together. He tossed his phone onto the bed and headed back out into the living room, empty wine glass still held delicately between his fingers and swinging at his side as he walked.

He needed a shower.

 

* * *

 

After a few glasses of wine and a well applied face mask, Lance felt great. He cleaned the rest of the mushy gunk off of the bed and made himself quite comfortable and watched TV. A couple of times he looked at the room service menu but there was only so much he could splurge on and he was still lowkey reeling at the number of zeros on the bill after booking the room.

He lay on his stomach on the soft sheets with his ankles crossed, chin balanced in one hand, the remote in the other. Horror movie marathons and halloween cartoons were the only thing on at this point since it getting so close to the holiday season. He had settled on Scream, a classic, while he waited for his Birth of Venus face mask to dry.

On screen, Drew Berrymore leaned on the wooden island top on the phone with the killer while she pulled a large kitchen knife out of the block. Lance wiggled a bit out of excitement - he tried to still his smile, no sense in cracking the mask before it had time to do its work - thank god he hadn't missed any of the good stuff. While he sat and watched, he began to ponder what exactly were the plans for Halloween. He expected to go to a party, there was bound to be a bunch of big ones in all the frat and sorority houses. If Hunk’s frat had one, well he couldn’t miss out on that. But he didn’t want to miss out on the other festivities. Surely there would be some things going on in town.

Lance didn’t even have a costume planned…

He pressed the home button oh his phone. It was barely even six o’ clock. He touched his fingers to his check. The mask was still tacky under his touch. A few more minutes before he needed to clean it off, then he would take a shower. He moved his focus from Drew fighting off Ghostface to an empty tab on his phone. He needed a costume. Usually he was much more prepared that this. Halloween was his favorite holiday next to Christmas. Last year he was Spiderman, the year before that he was a pirate. The spiderman costume was ruined during a party, a girl with too much to drink and no balance had made sure that was impossible to wear a second time. The long blue coat from his pirate costume was still in his closet somewhere. He was sure he could dig up the boots and then raid amazon for missing pieces if he really needed too.

He made a pretty sexy pirate captain. Jack Sparrow had nothing on him. Then again, the same costume within five years was lazy. Lance sighed deeply and searched through halloween stores for costumes. There were lots of clowns and ghosts and characters. Maybe a Disney prince? He stumbled upon a Sora cosplay and nearly screamed. Not only was the costume cheaply made, but the model’s hair was just gelled and spiked in a crude mimicry of the video game character. It’s impossible to make your hair look like Sora’s, why didn’t they just put a wig on the model?? Lance shook his head. Enough of that. His mask was dry anyway.

A thought occurred to Lance while he dabbed at his damp skin with one of the white fluffy rags in the bathroom. What was Keith doing for Halloween? Maybe he would be interested in going party hopping. The could do a costume group together, the whole group. He tossed the rag onto the sink and looked through his phone again for group costumes. Most of them were just too nerdy or not well executed and so idea just didn't seem good until he found a picture of some teenagers at a party. They had dressed themselves as characters from Little Red Riding Hood.

Hunk would be perfect as the Hunter, and Pidge hilarious as the Grandmother. That would leave him as Red Riding Hood, and… Keith as the wolf? His heartbeat spiked, heat flaring along his cheeks. Keith, and Pidge, would never say yes to it anyways, but Lance couldn’t help but adore the idea of Keith as the Big Bad Wolf. He immediately double tapped out of the internet browser, switching to his music. He needed music and another glass of wine to distract himself from the idea of Keith with fuzzy wolf ears. He tracked out of the bathroom, towards the mini kitchenette with the half-empty wine from the gift basket. Cycling through the songs on his apps, he poured himself another glass before finding the perfect song.

“Talkin' in my sleep at night. Makin' myself crazy…” Lance sang while rocking his shoulders to the beat. He turned his up as loud as it would go and searched around, one hand with his phone and the other with the new glass. Hidden in the tiny cabinet above the electric stove, he found an iphone dock. He set his phone on it, the music paused for a moment before blasting through the speakers, easily heard throughout the whole hotel room. Just like he wanted.

He swayed back to the bedroom, taking a large gulp of wine and grabbing the doorframe as he passed and slid forward. He sashayed like in his old salsa classes and dipping himself at the waist. Lance did turns with his hips, sipping from his wine flute and rolling to the bass. Dua Lipa crooned against a beat that was just too catchy not to bop to. He shimmied his shoulders, swishing and gently tipping the rim of his glass to his lips.

In no time at all, the song cycled back a second time as Lance replaced dancing with his moisturizing routine. He pumped lotion into his palm and ran his hands up his leg to his thigh before massaging it into his skin and then moving to the next leg, and then his arms. He glanced over at his…. Third? No, fourth. Fourth glass of wine forgotten  on the nightstand, completely empty. He should probably slow down, maybe offer some to Keith? Then again, Lance didn't peg him for a wine drinker.

It didn't matter, there was another bottle in the bathroom. He tossed the lotion bottle into the duffle bag on the floor and grabbed his small black travel bag in its place. He unzipped it and pulled out a tiny glass bottle of rose oil. Lance didn’t use scented lotions, essential oils were better in his opinion. He opened the bottle and applied small doses on the insides of his wrists and neck.

Lance prepared to apply some to his chest when a loud, almost aggressive knock started him. He jumped, nearly dropping and spilling the whole bottle. “Jesus…” Lance muttered as he capped the bottle and sat it next to his wine glass. He probably should have put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door when he got here. He hurriedly stood up and grabbed his kimono off the back of the desk chair and slipped it on over his shoulders. Another knock had him scurrying out of the bedroom. Lance reached the door and unlocked it, leaning against the doorframe. He inhaled deeply to settle his nerves before pulling the door open. “Sorry, we don’t need room -”  

Keith stood at the door ready to knock again and he quickly dropped his hand. The two stared each other for a moment. For once he wasn’t wearing joggers. They didn’t bother Lance, in fact he really like the way the had the tendency to hang low on Keith’s hips, but to see him in a pair of black jeans slit at the knees was a pleasant surprise. He looked like he’s tried to clean up from his work shift, but somehow missed the grease on his otherwise clean shirt. He worked at a garage, so maybe all of his shirts had stains on them. Keith only had a backpack with him slung over one shoulder with his inky hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.

“Uh, hey there.” Keith’s eyes trailed down his body and it was then that Lance remembered that under his kimono he was bare except for a pair of cheeky little shorts. He quickly fisted the silk closed over his middle. The fabric slipped off his skinny shoulders.

Lance held the door open for Keith to squeeze past him. “I was so not expecting you, I thought I had like another hour.” Lance blushed. He closed the door and leaned his back against it, locking it behind himself.

Keith shrugged the backpack off and sat it on the couch. “I’m actually like half an hour later than I said I was gonna be.”

Late? Lance’s face scrunched. He pushed himself off the door and glided past him, kimono trailing behind him as he walked. Lance leaned against the kitchen counter, almost on his tip toes to stretch across the granite, and paused the music on his phone before checking the time. Sure enough, it was running on 8pm. He laid the phone down and slid back dramatically, giggling, “ _Wow,_ okay, nevermind, I just lost track of time.” He smiled coyly, “But that’s okay! Just… make yourself at home.” Lance loosely waved his arm around the hotel room.

“It’s…”

“Big? Yeah, I though the space would be nice so we’re not like, on top of each other all night.” Lance paused for a moment before chuckling again at his unintended pun, “Check out time is like, 1pm tomorrow.” He had done that with their last night together in mind. He knew good and well that they would be sore in the morning and easily sleep in for a few hours. He sashayed back into the bathroom where his straightener had been left to heat up.

“Jesus christ,” he heard Keith whistle.

“Yeah, the bedroom is intense, and that’s the only bed so.” Lance grabbed a spray bottle of heat protectant and sprayed it through his hair. “There’s wine and fruit. I think I ate most of the fruit. Except the pineapple. They gave us a _whole_ pineapple, Keith.” Lance began to run the straightener through his hair, flattening out every curl. When he was done, he swept back out to the room, leaning on the doorway as he watched Keith stare in wonder at it all, his own smile going from crooked grin to soft pulls of the lip.

“Did you want some? Wine, I mean, not the pineapple,” he clarified, setting the straightener on a towel.

“Uh,” Keith drawled, blinking at the T.V. as he slowly wandered towards the living room area. “Sure?”

Lance chuckled to himself, turning to get the bottle and glasses that had been placed on the side of the tub. He went through the motions of uncorking the bottle and pouring Keith a glass, then carefully went out into the bedroom. Keith sat on the bed, running his hands across the silk sheets. For the briefest moment, the image of Keith and Lance tangled in those sheets, fingers laced together, sweaty and mingled breaths hanging in the air passed through Lance’s mind and Lance felt something unnamed bubble in his chest.

“Here you go.” he squeaked. Keith raised an eyebrow but took the glass tentatively. Lance nodded curtly before turning on his heels and rushed back into the bathroom. Tonight was supposed to be a special request, and Keith was so on board with it, despite not knowing what it was exactly as Lance had failed to mention it.

Up until now, their shows had a very specific routine that worked for them. In retrospect, Lance probably should have mentioned the details about the stream for the night, but he had no idea how to even start that conversation. Now here they were, mere hours from the show, and Keith still didn’t know. Lance worried at his bottom lip with his thumb and pointer finger. The show had already been paid for. If they canceled, they would have to return the money back or worse, their follower count would drop. But Keith was cool, right? They had done some pretty risque things so far, so this request was nothing right?

Lance grabbed the neck of the wine bottle and took another drink then set it down. “So hey, um. Remember how I said we had like a special request or whatever.”

“Mmhm.”

He combed his fingers through his hair. Tussled it and checked over his face in the mirror. “The thing is, they wanted something a little different this time. It’s not like a big deal or anything.”

“Okay? So what’s the request?” There was a hint of hesitation in Keith’s voice.

“Well, they just really _really_ want to see you bottom. Nothing too crazy.” It came out rushed. The words nearly running into one. He turned off the straightener and squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the answer.

Silence.

Silence was a lot better than he had built himself up to think was going to happen, but it was also a little unnerving. He laid the straightener down on a towel and unplugged it. Still there was no word from Keith. He turned and snuck to the doorway and popped his head around the corner. Keith sat on the bed still with one leg tucked under him and the other hanging off the edge of the bed. His head was tilted and his brows knitted in thought.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Lance leaned against the doorframe. “Are you… are you not okay with that?”

“It’s not anything like that,” Keith replied. He rolled his shoulders back. “I just... thought I was only a dick in this whole situation.” There was a hint of a smile on his face but Lance couldn't tell the meaning behind it. Was he really that modest?

Lance leaned forward a bit laughing almost obnoxiously. Oops. Keith shot him an irritated look and watched as Lance, through fits, waved his hand. His flag of apology. He managed to hold himself up thanks to the doorway while he tried to compose himself. He should have taken it easy on that wine.

“Do you even look at the comments under our videos?” Lance breathed, wiping a tear away from his eye.

Keith raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

Wow. He really didn't keep up on their page? Had it not been for the irony of it, Lance might have been a little offended.

“Keith, seriously? The viewers actually adore you. You are _so_ much more than a fuck toy. You’re probably the best thing to happen to-” Lance faltered. The knowing smirk playing on Keith’s face made his stomach burn.

“To happen to… what?”

“The channel!” Lance blurted. Keith actually flinched at the pitch in his voice. “I mean, _they_ love you and _they_ want to see you bottom.”

“Uh- _huh_ …” Keith leaned back on his hands, looking through his bangs.

Lance cleared his throat. “So... have you ever bottomed before?”

Keith stood, passing Lance on his way to his backpack, “When I was younger, it’s been a while though.” He proceeded to fish through the pack and Lance lingered in the doorway to watch him. Keith pulled out his hair tie, letting his choppy black locks free before tossing the tie into his backpack. Lance followed the strands as they dipped and fanned around Keith’s pale neck, curling attractively toward his sharp jawline.

“Have you ever topped before?” Keith glanced at him through the corner of his eye, catching Lance off guard and making him jolt in the doorway. He nervously ran a hand through his hair, not even thinking about how it would ruin the freshly straightened locks.

“With _girls-”_ His voice cracked. Fuck. He had only topped, let alone had sex, a couple times; once in high school and a few in his freshman year. All with girls, being mostly before he had even realized he was into guys too. He had only recently come out to himself in college, though Hunk claimed he knew about it all the way back in their sophomore year of high school, and then shortly after he started the cam show.

Keith broke into a smile, a _real_ smile and Lance felt his heart flutter as Keith so rarely did that. Perfect, pearly-white teeth and dimples to die for. Actually, it was one dimple on the left corner specifically that knocked Lance flat on his ass every single time Keith’s lips curled back. Lance took a moment to say a quick and silent prayer that he wouldn't come completely undone at the end of this. He inhaled deeply and made his way back to the living room, passing Keith quickly.

 _Idle hands,_ he thought as he busied himself with gathering up the show equipment and hauling it back into the bedroom. When he returned, the bathroom door was closed and Keith was nowhere to be found, though he could hear the shower running. No doubt washing away the hours he had spent at the garage. Lance still felt warm though at the thought of Keith behind that door. If it was from the commendable amount of wine or something else, he didn’t know for sure. But it was probably best not to dwell on it. He set up the laptop on the desk and the tripod, mounting the camera onto it. Lance spent a few moments angling the camera because framing is everything and then changed into a pair of sweatpants because he had spent entirely too much money on his new kimono for Keith’s wild and insatiable claws to tear it up.

For a moment, the notion conjured up an image of the costume idea, Keith tearing into red fabric and Lance…

Lance thought about pouring another glass.

He readjusted the camera again and aimed it towards the headboard, making sure the whole bed was within the frame. Lance opened the laptop and went to the page where there were already people in the chat room. Waiting. It was show time. Lance took one more deep breath before starting the stream. He sat back onto the bed and, like the flip of a switch, he slid into his cam show persona.

“Welcome, everyone,” he was always surprised at how his sultry voice never betrayed how nervous he was lately at the start of his shows. Not because he didn't _want_ this or anything, but more like a nervous excitement. Every show since the first, it had gotten more and more so. Perhaps if the viewers did know how much he anticipated sex with Keith, the tips would get better. Maybe if the rumor started flying around again, he would just leave it alone. It’s not like it would hurt anything. “You all know what you’re here for. On a scale of one toooo ten,” he rested his cheek against his shoulder and bit gently on his bottom lip until it slid back from his teeth. “How excited are you all?”

The chatroom dinged repeatedly in response. His split into a dazzling smile and he ran his tongue over his teeth and jumped up slightly.

“So, I know it’s show time, and _I,_ for one, can’t wait.” He ran his hands down his thighs slowly. “Red is in the shower, but-”  Almost as if on cue, the bathroom door opened. Lance turned as watched Keith step out of the steam, dark hair clinging to his skin and dripping. His sweats hung low on his hips, exposing that delicious dip that disappeared into the waist of his pants. A towel hung around his neck and he tangled his hand on one end and used it to dry the back of his head. Warmth pooled in Lance’s core.

“Well, speak of the devil and he’ll walk right in.” he teased before looking back at the camera. “Look who decided to join us.”

Keith yanked the towel from his neck, balled it up, and tossed it into the corner of the room. He walked towards Lance and leaned forward to open his knees and stand between them.

“Starting without me?” He asked with that knowing smirk and cursed dimple. Lance felt his entire face flush and he nearly squeaked.

Lance rolled his tongue over his lips and reeled in the nerves, “Never.” He pulled Keith down onto his lap. Lance’s fingers dip into the waistband of Keith’s sweats, down the small of his back. He presses Keith closer to him. “Have you ever thought about it before? Me fucking you.”

Keith hummed, “A few times.”

“I’ll give you a night you’ll fap to for weeks.” _fap?!_ Lance cringed internally because wow he had actually used that word out of the entire english and spanish dictionaries. He. Chose. Fap.

Keith leaned back. “Never _ever_ use that word for this kind of situation again. _Ever.”_ he deadpanned.

“C’mon babe, I’m just trying to get you in the mood.” He massaged small circles into Keith’s hips. Lance had to find some way to recover. He ran his palm across the crotch of Keith’s sweats and felt his desired target jump despite himself.

“Are you trying to be bad or are you actually just this terrible?”

Lance glanced down at Keith’s hips and watched how he rolled against Lance’s groin under the ministrations of his thumbs, “You still like it.” His voice sounded strained even to his own ears.

“Don’t read too deep into it,” Keith taunted.

Lance’s hands find their way into the front of Keith’s pants where his cock was stiffening. trapped between the fabric. Lance pulls it out just above the waistband and presses his palm against it and slowly slides his hand up, fingers closing over the head and back down again. Keith shudders and grabs onto Lance’s shoulders, nails biting down into the skin for anchorage.

“You like that?” Lance presses a kiss to Keith’s collarbone. He watches Keith’s eyes shut tightly and his mouth fall open, short gasps tumble from his lips while Lance works him closer and closer. Lance’s pupils slowly blow out as precum leaked from Keith’s cock to soak into the front of his pants.

He could easily watch Keith get off in his lap right there, but his patience was wearing thin and the friction of Keith’s hips stuttering against his own had Lance straining in his pants as well. Lance leaned back, pulling Keith with him and rolling over until Keith lay sprawled out beneath him. In a frenzy he pulled Keith’s pants off and tossed them away, his own following very shortly after.

Now was the part Lance was a little less excited for and more anxious. He knew that anal needed more prep, but he was almost entirely lacking in that department of knowledge. Still, since they got the request, he’d done some researched. And by ‘some’, he meant an entire two nights of looking up prep and watching a large variety of gay porn videos to make sure he knew how it was done. And possibly jerked off a few times, but honestly, who could blame him?

He’d left a small bottle of travel lube on the bedside table, praising his past self for remembering to grab it and toss it in his duffel bag earlier. He grabbed it now, popping the cap open and pouring some of the cold substance over his fingers. He leaned down to smear a line of kisses over Keith’s neck and chest, as his coated fingers trailed lightly over his cock, reaching further down until they found his hole and simply circling the muscle there gently.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, just loud enough for the other to hear. He got a small sound of affirmation, so he started slipping a finger in and out, easing it all the way in after a few times. Keith’s sounds were a little more pitched now, and after a minute or so of fucking him with one finger, he added another. The dark-haired man whined a bit, so Lance nibbled a chunk of skin between his teeth, making the whine melt into a moan. A third was added not long after, making Keith’s hands scramble for purchase on the too-smooth sheets, panting needy sounds that made Lance’s mouth water.

Keith quivered in front of him, his knees very nearly trembling with stimulation. All that inky hair lining down trailed over his thighs, in mesmerizing swirls against pale skin where Lance had utterly finger-fucked Keith open, wet and warm and pink. His cock pointed up to the ceiling, and that deep Adonis belt jumped with every touch Lance pressed into the sensitive concaves of Keith’s inner thighs.

The sound was new, too. Keith had long flung an arm over his eyes, elbow pointed skyward and mouth wide open in heavy pants and gasping moans as he withered against the bed. A warm swash of pink rang from the tips of his ears, peeking out of the black mass of Keith’s still-damp hair, all the way down to his clavicles in streaks down his chest. The knuckles fisted in the hotel bedsheets were stunning white, pulling at each stroke of Lance’s fingertips against his balls or puckered hole. He was just a bit awed, and more than a bit woozy from how hard he was watching Keith react so intimately.

He spread his fingers, curling upwards and drawing heavy breaths from the man laid out before him. Keith’s chest rose and fell quickly, lips spread and eyebrows scrunched, well as much as he could see from around the arm over Keith’s eyes. Lance gently rolled more lube on his fingertips, scissoring Keith wide.

“Are you ready?” His own damn voice sounded foreign to him, high and raw.

Keith nodded shiftily, taking away his arm to look at Lance, “...As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Lance tried to supply a reassuring smile, but his cheeks went like it turned out way too giddy, like some teenager grinning down at his first ‘conquest’. Keith smirked weakly and Lance cursed himself for it. Reaching over for the condom that had been on the bedside table with the lube, he tore the wrapper open, sighing as his fingers made contact with his achingly hard erection as he rolled it on. He scooted closer, clasping onto Keith’s muscular inner thighs as he lined himself up, and slowly pushed into Keith’s heat.

Sunspots danced behind his eyelids. Whatever undignified loud noises his mouth was making utterly faded away as he felt the tight warmth around him. Keith drew a single shaky breath, stiffening and tightening around Lance until he honestly thought he was about to bust right there, not even fully sheathed into Keith. He breathed in through his abdomen, bent over Keith’s body like he was praying and pressed in a trembling thrust.

Keith stiffened more, and he slowed significantly. He could do slow, he actually preferred slow. He desperately needed to regulate his breathing in order to last longer, and now it just came with the prime opportunity to tease Keith. He opened his eyes, and looked down to where he sat halfway in Keith.

The contrast of his dark pink compared to Keith’s pale body covered in black hairs, slightly flushed and messy from use, would probably make him drool over how pleasing it looked. Lance drank in the sight, tilting his head as he slowly rolled in and out, in and out.

Lance traced the pale expansion of skin over taut abs with his eyes as Keith propped himself up. Lance jolted, feeling as Keith squeezed his ass and met his next thrust with a grind of his hips. He tore his eyes away from where they sat connected to Keith’s face. His eyes were dark, dangerous and flashing with fire Lance had seen before.

“C’mon Blue,” Keith’s voice made his knees weak, deep and scratchy, “fuck me harder.” His hips stuttered immediately, mouth dropping to let out a feeble gasp, feeling Keith push at his ass to sink in further. He tucked his chin in, eyes squeezing tight as he fucked into Keith again.

Keith moaned, “ _Faster -”_

He whimpered, feeling Keith’s hard grip on his ass help rock them both. Lance felt so weak, encompassed with the heat from Keith’s fit gorgeous body. His cheeks burned, the tips of his ears on fire as he folded over. Keith’s thumbs rolled up the soft lines of his hips, fingers biting into the plump of his ass, physically pulling Lance forward. Keith pulled him in, meeting each thrust he commandeered with deep grinds that sent delicious jumps up Lance’s spine.

They were so close together, Keith’s breath heavy on Lance’s collarbone as the brunet laid limply folded over him. His head was spinning, face blushed insanely and eyes drooped to see the blur of Keith’s pale skin against the dark silken colors of the suite bed. His hips felt so sharp against the muscle of Keith’s inner thighs, rapidly thrusting as to succumb to Keith’s dirty groans and his grabbing hands on his ass. His fingers gripped onto Keith’s shoulders, seeking some stability as he deepened his thrusts and slowed them.

Keith gave a heavy groan that skimmed Lance’s collarbones, “ _Blue,_ I need it faster -”

Lance almost smirked, loving how desperate Keith sounded as he stretched his thrusts slower. He breathed out hard, dragging his hips back against Keith’s prying hands. But then, the world flipped.  

Keith pushed himself up to yank Lance down until he pinned Lance beneath him and straddled his hips. He grasped Lance’s cock and lined it up with his stretched opening.

“God, you play too much,” he breathed.

Lance lifted his head from the sheets and looked at his partner wildly. Sitting there in his lap, Keith looked like heaven. His hair was a ravaged mess, face flushed and eyes dark and shiny like jewels. His toned body perched on Lance, toned slim muscles darkened with the flush of sex, it made Lance’s mouth completely dry. “Kei -”

He sank down.

 _“Oh god,”_ Lance whined, throwing his head back into the pillows.

Keith lifted his ass to thrust down again, panting, “Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly. Lance was absolutely wrecked. He had fantasized about it, gotten off to it more than a few times, but never in a million years did Lance think he would have the pleasure of being sheathed in that tight heat. And god, if it wasn’t the most tantalizing, full-body encompassing thing he’d ever felt.

His mind melted into blinding white, “Red I- I can’t.” Lance wasn’t sure what to even do with his hands anymore and opted to grab onto Keith’s thighs. It was the closest thing to anchorage he could find, but he couldn’t hold on much longer. Lance gazed up through hooded eyes and watched Keith’s tongue flick over his lips then leaned down pressing his body flush with Lance’s and slid his hand over the planes of his chest.

“Do you like that?” Keith’s face was smug. He knew exactly what he was doing. He rolled his hips teasingly slow, ripping a low moan from Lance’s throat. “That feel good, baby?”

 _'Yes…yes!'_ He wanted to scream, but the best he could manage was a high and undignified squeak. He pressed half-moons into Keith’s thighs and raked his nails over Keith’s skin, gripped his hips tightly and pulled him down. Warmth coiled in his lower belly, making him tremble. This was it, Lance was sure. Keith was actually going to be the end of him, and he would be so amused by it. He gasped high as Keith brought down his hips, embarrassment dusting his cheeks a deep red as the high pitched sound. Lance pressed his palm to his own  lips, trying to hold himself together while Keith rolled his hips in rhythmic circles.

Keith must’ve noticed the way Lace silenced himself and thought, _that just won’t do._

“Don’t cover your mouth,” Keith reached for the hand placed against Lance’s mouth and laced  their fingers together, pulling the hand away and pinning it to the bed above Lance’s head onto the bed. He pressed his forehead to Lance’s for a moment before moving to his ear in full view of the camera.

“I want to hear you.” Keith’s voice was just above a whisper. He glanced at the chat as he took Lance’s earring between his teeth and tugged gently before devouring his neck, relentlessly savoring his skin.

Lance wanted to be closer. As if that were even possible. Roaming hands touched every inch of skin he could reach, he raked his nails up Keith’s back and across his scalp.

Lance tightened his hands in those dark tresses, “Red I’m… I’m gonna…” Keith’s undulations became more frenzied. He gripped Lance’s hand and slid his free hand over Lance’s throat and squeezed a bit. Lance’s eyes closed, breath stilled. None of Lance’s other partners had ever, but Lance made a mental note of the way his cock jumped- go ahead and add that to the list of things that got his motor going. After a second, Keith released his hold long enough for Lance to catch his breath before going again. Each time a second was added to the interval and each time his dick swelled harder until even Keith’s head lolled. Keith cupped Lance’s jaw and pushed his head back into the bed, pulling his bottom down with his index finger as he coaxed the orgasm from Lance’s body. The warmth in Lance’s lower belly spilled over. His spine curved, Wave after wave, pleasure assaults his body. But Keith didn't stop, riding him through his orgasm.

“I got you.” Keith murmured, low and hot in his ear and practically pulling his spine into even a harsher angle as Lance gasped, moaning loudly, cumming heavy into Keith’s tight heat. His face immediately felt hot, eyes squeezing shut as he realized just how quickly he had cum.

Keith’s gentle huff of a laugh breathed along his temple, “Finished already?”

“ _Fuck,_ I’m sorry. I just-!” Lance burst out. _“Wow - "_ God his voice was wrecked - breathy, weak and parched. His hips still jumped, reminder of how hard he had just cum, and muscles utterly exhausted. Keith gave shallow rolls of his hips until he came to a stop, slowly pulling off Lance. A shiver rolled up his spine, feeling the heat of Keith’s hole until his cock slipped out fully. Lance whined softly at the sticky feeling around his dick, and reached down to tug off and tie the condom, tossing it in the trash bin that sat next to their bed.

“No big deal.” Keith said as his thighs lifted from around him, reaching for the camera, shifting almost entirely off the bed before Lance clawed onto him.

“No, wait a minute. You didn’t finish.” His hands, still threaded in Keith’s inky hair tugged, softly, to pull him back from leaving. Keith followed easily, which made his heart do somersaults he did not even _want_ to touch on. He pushed Keith back, slow and easy so Keith sat against the headboard again, sliding their lips together.

Keith opened his mouth immediately, and ran his tongue against Lance’s wetly. Lance knew that with his charm and enthusiasm, he was a force of nature quite difficult to refuse. He pulled back only slightly.

“Now I want to make _you_ feel good,” his voice ghosted over Keith’s lips. He leaned forward and made a noise of frustration at the absence of Lance’s mouth on his, a noise that grew more irritated when Lance leaned back again teasingly out of his reach. Lance smirked as he ran his hands from Keith’s hair down his chest

“Teasing isn’t very nice.” Keith retorted. Lance nipped at the pulse in Keith’s neck, eliciting a breathy sigh from Keith as he lifted from the headboard to meet him. Lance’s eyes slit and his lips curled into that familiar cat like smile.

“I haven't even done anything to you yet.” he crooned. His lips and teeth tended to the dip in Keith’s collarbone before continuing downward. **  
**

Lance settled between Keith’s legs. He closed his fingers around Keith’s length, admiring the weight of it and the way Keith trembled under his attentions. He may not have gotten off while riding Lance, but he knew it wouldn't take long. Lance wanted to swallow him down, suck him off until he came in a scream while Lance made sure not to spill a drop, but his throat was too raw now. That was okay, though, since this wasn't about him after all. He had chased his pleasure, and this was about Keith. Which Lance had discovered by now was becoming his favorite pass time. Lance had always been a people pleaser, eager and attentive, but nothing quite on this level before. Lance squeezed gently, making Keith’s hips hitch upwards into his fist with a low groan.

Lance felt a giddiness dance in his chest while he watched Keith fist at the bed sheets. Lance wanted more reactions like that. He _needed_ more. Just how far could he take this? He leaned forward and pressed an open mouthed kiss to cock and slowly dragged his lips up before flicking his tongue across Keith’s slit, catching the drops of precum that had beaded there.

“ _Fuck_ , you feel so good.” Keith breathed, tilting his head back for a moment. He looked down at Lance, his eyes lidded in ecstasy and mouth hanging open. “How do you- _nnh.”_

Lance rolled the flat of his tongue over his slit, swirling his tip slowly and puffing his lips out to suck at the drops that leaked. He milked Keith’s release, sucking kisses to the sides of his shaft and pumping his cock with both hands. He looked up to Keith, opening his mouth to lay the heavy tip on the flat of his tongue as he leisurely stroked him.

Keith fell forward, hunched as he groaned and ran his fingers through Lance’s hair. His eyes were blackened, hair drooping forward gorgeously. Lance moaned gently, feeling the scrape of his those fingers on his scalp as he ran his tongue along the underside of Keith’s dick. He held those attractive slit eyes, moving forward to pop his lips around Keith’s tip and suck softly as he rolled his hands fist over fist on his cock.

He popped out of Keith’s pink head with an audible wet slap, swirling his tongue once before Keith burst. Rivets of white cum landed on his extended tongue, spurting across his face in strings. He closed his eyes with a tiny gasp, licking at the familiar salty taste across his lips and feeling the cum drip across his cheeks.

Keith cussed softly, a thud as he dropped his head to the headboard, “ _Jesus_.”

Lance opened an eye, grinning up at Keith. He swiped his tongue along his lips again, in a larger circle to catch more drips. He swiped his thumb across his cheek, catching some cum before popping his finger in his mouth and sucking it off.

Keith clasped his hand over his mouth, under his tongue, muffling his cursing as he looked away. Lance laughed, still chuckling as he got up off the bed on wobbly knees.

In the camera viewfinder, he could see the mess of white on his face still. Keith behind him was turned his way, but flopped over onto the sheets in exhaustion. He smiled, laughing to himself as he adjusted the lens focus from the wide shot to the close one. He almost laughed again because of the mess on his face, but god did it seem that the viewers enjoyed it. The tip jar was flooded with extra tips despite the pre-bought show.

“Thank you so much for the support,” Lance started, wincing at the roughness of his voice, “Loving all the extra tips! I hope this was a good pre-bought show for all of our loyal fans - definitely gonna need a couple hours to rejuvenate. We’re both pretty dead.”

He punctuated it by zooming into the unmoving mass of pale skin and black hair flopped half under the covers of the bed, “That one specifically.”

Lance readjusted the zoom, arms raised to the camera still as he grinned, “Blue signin’ off - See you all in the public tiered show!” With a last wink, he switched off the camera and moved to the laptop to turn off the live stream and exit the website.

Then he went over to Keith, sitting down on his knees on the bed, “You want some pineapple? I’m gonna go apologize to the neighbors.” All Keith supplied was a grunt, but one that made Lance laugh all the same.

 

* * *

 

When his body hit the water, he groaned. He sank into the endless tub, sliding until he sat on the ceramic instep and stretched his legs out in the hot water. The ache in his ass was still there, but it wasn’t so bad with his body submerged in the slightly rose-scented bubbles. It had been a few years since bottoming last, and it was definitely better than shitty, high school, lack of proper education, no-lube sex. He could hear the scrape of the desk chair against the tiles and lolling his head to the side, he could see Lance setting up the laptop on it.

Lance bent over the chair, typing on the laptop with his hand absently playing with the waistband of his briefs. From this angle, Keith had the opportunity to admire those long gorgeous legs. Scattered half-moon prints of Keith’s own nails were embedded in the small of Lance’s back, just barely visible over his low riding briefs, after their previous show about over two hours prior.

When Lance had told him that chat, that all those fans had been sending in requests to see Keith bottom, he had stared long and blankly. It wasn’t like he was unwelcome to bottoming, but the cam show had always been about _Lance_. Apparently Lance’s fans liked him enough to be fans of him as well, which was both anxiety-inducing and somewhat nice.

Either way his ass hurt. He sunk deeper into the tub, submerging himself completely. He held his breath for just a few seconds before breaking the surface again, feeling the water run down his face in streams. He brushed his now-wet hair back from his face, tilting his head back and opening his eyes. He found Lance’s eyes immediately, who had gone from fixing up the laptop and angling the tripod over half of the tub, to standing over him. It would’ve scared him shitless if he didn’t immediately melt in those blue eyes and amused expression.

He breathed out, “...You scared me.”

Lance snorted, “No I didn’t.” He was right, so Keith said nothing. He just continued to watch Lance as he went around the tub, setting towels aside and carefully lining up the camera shot. Then he hooked his thumbs in his waistband, looking to the laptop entirely as he stripped. The absence of Lance’s eyes was replaced with his more-than-welcome bare ass, in all its perky and bubble-like glory. He stepped out of those tiny briefs, hips moving gently but more than enough for Keith to perk up literally under the water.

He watched as Lance talked to the private viewers, the people who had pre purchased the live show. He combed his eyes up and down the long lines of Lance’s beautiful body, admiring how the bright bathroom with all its white walls and fixtures highlighted his skin. He wanted to tell Lance he looked ethereal, but left his mouth closed so he wouldn’t interrupt.

Instead he looked around the bathroom. The jacuzzi tub sat somewhat in the middle of the large white bathroom. There was a step before the bottom tile, a white ceramic that continued throughout the entire room. The window on the wall closest was large, accented by a fucking round column that held a ceiling with a damn skylight above the hot tub. Candles were set on every corner, on every ledge embedded in the walls or sat next to a plush window seat across from the couples sink and vanity mirror.

The entire hotel room was insane, but this bathroom was something else. It felt entirely too lavish for the kinds of shit apartments he’d grown up in. But it was nice to experience now. He sunk further into the water, up to his neck really before turning his attention to Lance.

“ - you all again for going along with the last prescheduled show - Quality was so rough, I know. Red wanted to surprise everyone. Obviously, me included,” Lance chuckled, sitting on the side of the tub as he talked, “We’re not even going to mention the...other one.”

Keith raised his eyebrows. The other one… the drunk one? Where they forgot to even do a single marker for tiers, didn’t even ask for tips and basically fucked each other senseless? But still managed to make a personal high? He didn’t even know if he wanted to talk about it either. He saw Lance’s reaction at the tiniest mention of it after his midterm a week ago, how he flushed acutely and dodged the topic. Was it better to leave untouched? He frowned.

Lance leaned forward to tug the camera on the tripod closer to the tub, “Okay, let’s start with a clean 100 to get things going,” then he cleared his throat and looked over to Keith, “Are you ready?”

Keith nodded, watching Lance rise and step up into the tub. He traced the soft lines of Lance’s waist as he settled into the water across from him. Lance groaned and relaxed immediately, and Keith cracked a smile at such a similar reaction to his.

“This is so fucking nice.” Keith rolled his shoulders in the water, feeling the jets rumble under his calves. Lance made a noise of contentment to respond, probably too busy with his own jacuzzi jets. Keith smiled again, happy to give Lance a minute before they did anything - just so he could let his muscles unwind just a bit more. He drifted down, letting his eyes close and his neck tilt back against the ceramic.

They stayed like that for just a few seconds more before the water shifted, and he opened his eyes to Lance close to him. He was on his knees next to Keith, pushing water through his own hair and shaking it out before coming closer. The tips streamed in slowly, gaining traction until a bright triple digit number boasted itself on the screen.

Keith turned to Lance with lazy eyes, admiring how bubbles and beads of sweet smelling bath water trickled down his chin and lovely chest, “How should we - ”

Lance kissed him, pressing his lips to Keith’s soft and slow. His lips were unwavering, he tasted of the wine he drank earlier, of the pineapple they shared but was somehow still deliciously _Lance_. Keith shifted forward in the water, reaching out, water trailing through his open palm to cup Lance’s cheek. It turned deeper immediately, Lance’s own hands trailing beneath the water to cup at his hardening cock. Keith groaned into the kiss, pulled back to look through the bubbles and do the same.

Slowly he placed his hand over Lance’s stiffness. It melded into his palm, slick from the water and easy to roll until Lance was panting hard against his lips. He throbbed, losing Lance’s seeking grip as he worked the other man to fullness with one hand, and sought his hole with the other. The dip of his finger at Lance’s entrance had them both stiffening, so Keith slowly circled it until Lance’s fingers danced harshly on his shoulders and he practically begged to chat, “Can-can we get to 400? _Please_ -”  

Keith smirked, chasing Lance’s lips and fondly committing every moan that came from him to memory. Lance molded against him, lean sharp lines and spread thighs as Keith circled his entrance with light teasing motions. Lance gasped, open mouth and wet tongue, giving Keith just the opening to suck slowly on his pink tongue. He ran his teeth, adoring how Lance jolted in the water, pressing his wet body closer. Soap bubbles sat between them, sticking to his forearm as he worked the tips of his fingers to press feather light on Lance’s hole.

“Red, please,” Lance choked, “Right there - ” And Keith didn’t even care if the tier was hit before he gave it to him, pushing in full and deep. Keith worked him open under the water, tilting Lance back for a better angle for his wrist as he worked him, listening to the methodical dings of tips from the chat fade into the background as Lance’s moans reverberated off the bathroom walls. He pushed in a second digit not long after, scissoring them out to stretch Lance. He didn’t have to do much before Lance was a mess, pinkened chest heaving under the water, and eyes wet with overstimulation.

Keith moved forward, retracing his hands to grab the base of his own cock and push gently forward. Lance met him halfway, eagerly sinking down onto him without so much as letting Keith ask if he was ready. “ _Ah_ -” Lance tossed his head back, shoulders to his ears and chin lolled to the camera, “mmh- next tier to get us going?”

Keith groaned as Lance sat down on him fully, hips jumping impatiently as Lance stretched down on him. The dings of chat were faint as he looked up through his wet fringe to the gorgeous boy across him. Lance was still tilted back, his hip bones sharp and protruding out of the water, the pink tip of his cock bobbing out. Lance scrambled backward to grasp at the opposite side of the tub, sliding back before sinking down onto Keith’s dick again. Keith released a harsh breath, feeling the pull in his abdomen. He throbbed against Lance, aching for more.

Lance looked to him desperately, face flushed and lips parted, “ _Red -_ ” and fuck if Lance had to say anything more than that before he jumped to fuck him.

He flexed his hips upward, bracing his feet at the bottom of the tub. With Lance stretched wide, his own elbows on the opposite sides of the tub, their slow pace was fucking incredible. Lance rolled down on him with delicious, endless circles, the soapy, blue-pink water sliding around them. He tucked his chin in, watching Lance slide down on him again and again.

Lance’s gorgeous brown skin was silky against his, smooth and hairless, gleaming in the bright light. He lolled his head to the side, groaning softly as he watched Lance work. The pace made Lance’s own cock, slick with water and precum, bop rhythmically with every thrust Keith shoved forward to meet him. When he glanced up, Lance’s eyebrows were knit. His eyes were focused on their connection but his face was flushed and wet, lips parted and bitten.

Keith flared with heat, groaning as he fucked once into Lance hard. Those blue eyes popped up to meet him and he barely reached forward before Lance’s lips crushed into his. He dropped down to sit on the step again, Lance sliding his supple, glossy thighs over and around his lap to chase Keith’s mouth. The kiss pushed them closer, Lance rolling down onto Keith as they kissed hurriedly. Keith’s brow furrowed, sliding Lance’s lips open passionately and thriving in the resulting moan. Humming blissfully, Lance rolled his fingers through Keith’s wet hair slowly as they kissed, lips ceaseless and prying.

Keith’s hands went searching, palms sliding down to Lance’s right leg to pry it up and give the camera a mouthwatering view of Lance rolling onto his cock. Lance  pulled apart from Keith’s lips to press openmouthed kisses up to the soft skin behind his ear, dragging his teeth down the sharp curve of his jaw. Keith shuddered, feeling Lance drop down onto him and grind.

“Fuck.” He muttered, because the leisurely pace was making his head spin. It gave him a chance for his muscles to relax, and even though he still ached, Lance sucked him in, tight, unyielding, and delectable. Sweat beaded at his hairline, dripping tracks down his temples. He looked up under his brushed-back bangs to watch Lance’s face. His hand still rested at the back of Keith’s head, moving easily so it cradled his neck as he stared.

Lance was focused on his slow rolls, the grinds that were making his knees weak. His hips stuttered to meet Lance now, the blush of his skin and wet parted lips drawing him in. Keith moaned, low and groaning as his hips jumped up on a particular thrust. Lance bowed his back in return, head dropping forward and gasping a high note. The downtempo picked up, hips finding each other stutteringly and desperately. His hands were sweaty, slipping from Lance’s soft inner thigh to catch under his knee, but the new angle had them reeling toward each other. His forehead plopped against Lance’s cheek, whose brown arms wound around his neck delicately, fingers fisted in the ends of his damp hair as he met him thrust after thrust.

He was breathing too hard, eyes clenched as Lance rode him steady and deep. Their moans blended, bounced off the bathroom walls as echos and he was slipping on everything; Lance’s skin, the wet tub seat, holding out on cumming prematurely. He mouth slipped from Lance’s cheek to his collarbones, breathing heavily there and feeling Lance’s fingertips slide through his hair. He felt weak, rolling forward with reckless abandon as he bit dark bruises into Lance’s warm, cocoa skin. The drag of Lance’s fingers in his hair tilted his chin up until Lance found his lips. This kiss was sloppy, messy in how Lance bit at his lips and rolled around his tongue.

Lance laid him back, pushed so his back hit the tub and leaned against it, hands slipping off of Lance’s thighs. Those thin fingers splayed over Keith’s chest, moving only to curl as Lance pulled forward and back. He tilted his chin back and moaned, reaching out to lay his hands passively on Lance’s spread thighs as Lance rode him. It was just as slow as before, maybe more so, but fuck it felt good. Every rock he slid out almost completely before Lance sheathed him, swaying so the water rippled with waves.

“Blue,” he rasped, meeting his eyes, “I’m going to -” It was too much, he was too close and too weak from earlier.

“Cum for me.” Lance murmured, picking up the treacherous pace with a teasing smirk. Keith could drown in those lips alone. The water moved faster now, with small splashes that split over to the bathroom tile. Lance bounced on him, with the push and pull that left his stomach bound in knots. He was so close, hips stuttering to thrust back before -

He moaned, satisfied and engulfed in bliss. Lance rode him through it, unwavering and generous before Keith moved forward to finish him. He slid his palm under the water, thumbing Lance’s balls before moving to the slit and rolling it under his fingertip. Lance breathed hard and heavy, catching in high moans as he grew close too. The roll of his hips was becoming unsteady, a hint at his pressing orgasm because god those dancer hips never stopped until needed - and Keith picked up the pace on his cock, rolling it in his fist just like Lance liked it. Lance had cum so soon when Keith had bottomed, something he was mildly proud of but wanted to stretch out.

Nevertheless, he wanted this orgasm for Lance to be one of the finest. Keith played teasingly on his tip, pulling at his foreskin and squeezing Lance’s balls with his free hand as he jumped his hips upward. All the core and calf training in the world had been worth it in that moment, propping his hips forward to utterly fuck hard into Lance. Those slow high moans rang in falsetto now, strung together like a choir falling from Lance’s lips.

“ _Ah - ah ah,”_ Lance gasped, hands literally held up like he didn’t know what to do with himself before he collapsed forward and came with a groan. Keith caught him easily. His midsection ached with the last few thrusts, but Lance hummed in mindless satisfaction against him as tiny lasting spurts of his orgasm coated Keith’s fingers under water. He didn’t have to think at all to know it was worth it as Lance fell against his chest and proceeded to snuggle there.

Keith sank against the rim of the tub. His head was still reeling, so he closed his eyes to the white bathroom. The ding of tips rang faintly from the laptop on the chair a few feet away, the camera just over his shoulder. He was faintly still aware of it recording, along with the ending stream of extra tips as he propped his elbows over the edge of the hot tub. He was exhausted, glad he didn’t rustle the wet warm head of Lance from its position cradled against the curve of his neck. He tilted his head back on the ceramic, letting the droplets of water run down his temples and off his chin. Lance’s hot breath ghosted over his collarbones, the gentle huffing to match the rise and fall of Keith’s chest.

God, his body ached. Nicely, though. His thighs muscles purred numbly from keeping the position in the tub, and his ass faintly still remembered Lance from earlier. He felt the water splash as Lance pulled off of his softening dick to press their wet bodies closer. Was he cold? Keith lazily reached a hand to around Lance’s waist, feeling the smooth wet skin. Lance’s slim muscles rolled under his palm, soft heat radiating. He left his hand there, letting Lance curl close so their heat could be shared.

He was hungry. His stomach was yelling at him, but nothing on the hotel room service menu would be remotely in their orbit. Sure they were making good money with Lance’s cam business, but they were still broke college students. The room alone, with its lavish hot tub and spectacular bed with the Egyptian silk sheets, was expensive enough. He clutched onto Lance’s waist, dropping his head forward to try and meet Lance’s eyes. He was completely nuzzled into his chest, just a head of darkened wet brown hair.

He stared, heavy down at that head of hair. He vaguely had a domestic vision of nuzzling into it, feeling the wetness drip on his chest but the warmth of Lance’s body heat against his face. Keith had only a semblance of an idea of what he’d be getting into when he suggested, more so persuaded, Lance to star alongside him - Lance was easily the prettiest boy he’d ever known, and came with that fiery personality that he thought would, for sure, be the only trouble he would have to deal with. Now he sat in the hot tub with him on his lap, feeling this warm fuzzy type of endearment for Lance. Did it come with the territory of fucking him? Keith almost doubted it, because he had had meaningless casual sex with people before and hadn’t felt this - this tentative intimacy, some kind of hesitant yearning to take Lance out and treat him right.

“Hey,” he started, clearing his throat, “...wanna go get a burger?”

Lance tensed, raising his head an inch, so just a peak of his blue eyes was visible under his bangs. His voice was muffled, almost hesitant, “...Are you just saying that?”

“What?” It was almost immediate, his outburst. Was Lance serious? Was he...serious? His head was stuttering but, if the burn in his chest was right, he definitely was. He wanted to get a burger with Lance, he wanted to treat him to a milkshake and sit opposite him to watch Lance sip it all up and eat the cherry. He wanted to tip the waitress, who would look on them with a small smile like she could see how consumed he was with Lance. How much the boy in his arms currently clutched onto him like a lifeline but still eluded him…

He caught Lance’s eyes like a vice, holding them, “No. I’m… into you. I wanna take you to Red Robin,” He almost banged his head against the ceramic. The shitty half-confession itself ( _‘Into you’ really, Keith?_ He wanted to yell at himself) wasn’t nearly as painful as fucking _Red Robin?!_ He could hear Shiro’s howling laughter at him from miles away, “Or...some shit.”

Lance went rigid in his arms as he sat up straight sharply, his muscles taut under Keith’s hand. He looked up from where Lance had been, following the rivets of water rolling down Lance’s gorgeous brown wet skin like little tantalizing drops of honey to his face. Lance was flushed, completely red from the tips of his ears to his collarbones, blush so heavy on his high cheekbones it looked like it was painted on.

That itself made Keith flush in turn. He burned, hot on his own face and embarrassed enough to pull his hand back from Lance’s waist. At the loss of the touch, Lance jolted forward from the water, causing a splash as he closed the laptop, effectively stopping the livestream, with a soft slam. The water, soapy and now lukewarm, reached over the sides of the hot tub as Lance fell back down into his lap. He was still bright red, but smiled softly and carefully to Keith.

“I’d really like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8) i want the fucking kimono that Lance has, i've never shopped at VS. Do you ever feel envy? - J
> 
> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)


	8. [00:08:00]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith, I - ” He hated how breathless his voice sounded in that hesitant moment after breaking the kiss.
> 
> I want this to mean something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rolls out of the gates of hell to toss new chapter at the masses! #I'mHereToKeepTheThirstAlive

 

\- [00:08:00] -

 

* * *

 

Coincidentally, Red Robin closed at 11pm.

Room service did as well, but placing a call down to the desk 30 minutes before close rather than trying to clean up and dress and make it to a restaurant… well the choice was obvious.

The first and last time Lance had stayed the night with Keith wasn’t really memorable. Only because they were both entirely too drunk to remember how the night played out and ended. At least, that’s what Lance told himself every time Keith’s fingers ghosted over his skin in passing, bringing forth images of flushed bodies and soft laughter. Keith hadn’t mentioned it not one singular time. So why should Lance?

It was fine.

Here, moving around each other to make the room presentable for whichever disgruntled employee brought up their last-minute order, taking turns taking showers; it was nice. Weird but nice. There’s a natural shift around each other – Lance didn’t even feel the need to fill the silences (when they happened) with pointless babbling.

Because the funny thing was – they actually _talked._

“You know I’m lactose intolerant, right?” Keith squinted at the spoonful of ice cream Lance offered to him.

They sat on the bed opposite of one another, their tray of dirty dinner dishes lay abandoned on the computer desk and the television played yet another horror movie at a low murmur. Lance had learned something. Keith was the definition of a heathen, getting crumbs all over the sheets. Before they turned in for the night Lance made sure to make a note to shake the blankets out.

Lance cocked his head. “Keith, it’s Ben & Jerry’s. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices in the name of good.” He leaned, putting the spoon closer to Keith’s face. “Are you really not willing to suffer in the name of caramel and chocolate?” Care -ah -mel. That’s how it’s said, and he waited on pins and needles to see if he and Keith needed to end this thing right there and now.

“I don’t even like caramel.” Keith snorted. The bottom of Lance’s stomach dropped. Car- mel.

“Oh my god, I can’t be seen with you.” He gasped, taking his spoon away, “You say ‘car-mel’! It’s ‘care-ah-mel’!”  
  
Keith scrunched up his face, twisting his mouth, “What are you talking about? It’s caramel.”  
  
Lance shook his head, furiously, before stuffing his spoonful in his mouth, outrageously smearing it on his face and gulping down the large chunk of Ben & Jerry’s. “You don’t even deserve this caramel if you can’t pronounce it properly.”

In seconds, Keith’s eyes burned with a new fire. A peak of expression; playful determination shimmered in his dark eyes. He slowly pushed his plate out from between them, pulling the bathroom towel from his shoulders with the other hand and leaning forward on the bed, shifting everything slightly towards him.

Lance had enough siblings to know that look.

“Keith _don’t_  - ”

Too late. Before Lance could even tumble backwards off the bed Keith seized his wrist and pulled him from the edge, pulled him in and ran his tongue over the corner of Lance’s mouth, licking up the caramel ice cream that lay there in one clean swipe.

Every muscle in Lance’s body locked and every nerve screamed. Consider Lance.exe broken. Every wire of his being shortcuts because god you can't just _do_ that to people! Sure, Keith was a forward guy (blame it on him being so socially stunted) but that was something Lance might have done if the recipient was cute enough and if Lance had a drink or two in him.

“Well look at that, you've been quiet for ten whole seconds.” Keith ran his thumb from the corner of his own mouth across the skin beneath his bottom lip and for a moment Lance was hypnotized by the slight pull of his lip.

Lance blinked rapidly, struggling to piece together a coherent thought. “Keith!” he squeaked. Smooth.

Keith’s laugh was genuine, making his shoulders shake and his eyes damn near sparkle. Lance tried not to smile, but seeing the way Keith’s face lit up he couldn’t stop himself or the snicker that bubbled in his chest and opted to wipe away the wetness at the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist. He lifted his arm, but noticed resistance. His gaze flicked down. Keith hadn’t let go of his arm.

He looked up and was swallowed in Keith’s dark eyes. They shifted with every breath Lance took, and seemed to peer closer and closer. He didn’t realize he was leaning forward until his eyes fell close and their lips met.

Keith’s lips were so warm Lance had to remind himself to breathe.

He could feel it, the hand wrapped around his heart squeezing like a vice…

It was amazing, Lance mused, how that hotel became a whole island unto themselves. A private world that no one had access to but the two of them. In that moment, anything outside of that locked door didn’t exist. There was only here – Keith’s gentle hands cradling either side of Lance’s neck and his thumbs brushing his cheeks. It wasn’t like any kiss they’ve shared for tips or like any kiss ever he had ever experienced.

Keith’s palm cupped his jaw up and he slid his tongue against those rough lips until Lance could taste him. His tongue rolled, lips already tender at the suddenly bruising kiss. He made a soft content noise when Keith swiped his fingers through his hair, reciprocating with a bite on Keith’s bottom lip.

Keith broke away first. A sigh of protest to match the ache in his chest fell from Lance’s lips and he played with the fabric of Keith’s shirt between his slender fingers. Keith leaned forward, gently bumping his forehead against Lance’s. Lance didn’t check to see if Keith’s eyes were open.

“Keith, I  - ” He hated how breathless his voice sounded in that hesitant moment after breaking the kiss.

_I want this to mean something._

But it’s dangerous to think like that.

Hands fell away and the bed beneath Lance shifted as Keith got up. Lance fell forward a bit with the absence of Keith’s forehead resting against his own. When he tried to leave, Lance tightened his hold on his shirt, stopping him. Lance wordlessly bit his bottom lip before turning and looking up at Keith.

“You don’t have to go.” Something in Lance’s voice sounded so young, so small.

“I’m just gonna sleep on the couch, it’s no big deal.” Keith sighed. “I shouldn't have -”

“I want you to stay.”

They both stalled at that. It felt like it hadn’t even came from his mouth. In fact his mouth was still open, almost gaping at himself. Keith was just frozen there, stood at the end of the bed in this honeymoon suite. The world of Lance’s cam show felt so far away, melting the moment into some dream where they were a normal couple about to touch for the first time - to sleep in the same bed for the first time.

“I want you to stay.” He repeated, firmly. For himself and for Keith.

Keith nodded, slowly and once before sitting gingerly back on the bedspread. He absently brushed the crumbs off the bed as Lance fiddled with his ice cream. Suddenly both of them jumped, Keith reaching for the trays and Lance reaching for the lid to his Ben & Jerry’s. It was that jolt that had them looking at each other again, gazing this time and not staring like seconds before.

“I’ll put this away.” Keith mumbled.

“And I’ll… get ready for bed.” Lance offered a small smile, trying not to let his heart soar with Keith smiled too.

When Lance awoke the next morning, he half expected Keith to be gone but the all too real leg thrown over his thigh and the warmth of Keith’s body proved otherwise.

Keith was so ridiculously pretty when he slept.

Lance had requested a late check out time. He tended to sleep long and heavy after every show. After finding his phone hidden under his pillow, he learned that it was only 10:30am. He thought about laying back down but the hollow growling in his stomach meant other plans. He turned his head slightly, trailing his eyes up the inky strands that laid against the luxurious pillows next to him. The plush cushions of the bed sunk around Keith’s strong figure, silk sheets pulled taut around his bare back.

There was a warm thought in his chest, watching Keith so sound asleep on his stomach beside him.

Faintly the echo of last night’s conversation murmured in his ears. Keith hadn’t left, he hadn’t slept on the couch. This time… they did have a decision. They weren’t drunk, passed out or belligerent. But Keith still stayed and Lance had wanted him to.

His stomach was doing Olympic -level gymnastics, tracing the veins under Keith’s alabaster skin and practically counting each individual dark eyelash when slowly Keith woke up. His eyes were still dark, slit and tired but almost immediately, a slow smile peaked at the edges of his lips, just barely _barely_ over the rise of the pillow. Lance’s entire chest stalled, throat dry. The warmth in that smile…

“Mornin’.” Keith’s voice was scratchy heaven.

“Oh uh hey,” his throat betrayed him, cracking like he was in middle school again, “I’m… going to go get ready for Red Robin.”

He very nearly tripped over all the covers attempting to escape the clutches of Keith’s smile.

 

* * *

  
The best part about going to Red Robin so close to opening hours, there was almost no one around. That suited Lance just fine because regardless of what happened the night before, they had been careful to keep their affairs private.

The two of them stood at the counter and waited for an employee to seat them.  Above them, speakers played a soft melody and Lance could just make out _early_ 2000s John Mayer. Sit down restaurants were their own little pocket universes. He couldn't help but kick the tip of his sneaker against the tiled floor while he bobbed his head and hummed along. Lance was ready for bottomless fries and bacon aioli. _So ready._

Like God himself had heard Lance’s prayer and sent an angel to answer, a pretty girl not much older than himself with wild red hair and a cluster of freckles dusting her cheeks greeted them with a bright smile.

“Mornin’ fellas, how many?”

Lance glanced over at Keith and _wow._ Keith looked downright ragged. Lance had dragged them out of bed rather early and after a pillow to the face, Lance learned that Keith was not a morning person at all. He looked like the 20 minute drive hadn't been enough for him to fully wake up. His hair was disheveled and there was still a red tint to his left cheek from where the rumpled blanket had left an indentation in his skin.

He was a mess but he was still gorgeous and he didn’t even _try._

Lance didn’t even want to think about what he looked like, he didn’t even get to put his contacts in before they left. He looked back at the waitress and pushed his glasses up his nose. “It’s just the two of us.”

She nodded in response, grabbed a couple of menus from behind the podium and lead them to a booth. She laid out their menus and stood aside for the two of them to slide into the leather seats.

“Can I get you guys anything to start?”

Keith barely even flipped over the menu before answering her. “Can I get a water, the Whiskey BBQ and the short onion ring… tower… thing.” Keith rubbed his hands over his face as he leaned forward a bit and sat his elbows on the table. He gave her a weak smile.

“Sure thing,” she drawled, scribbling down the order. “And you?”

“Water, chocolate shake and a bacon cheeseburger for me.” Lance settled on his typical default order without looking at his menu because he didn’t expect Keith to order so fast. “Oh and bacon aioli, please.”

“Alright boys, I’ll get your shake, drink, and fries right out.” She gathered their menus and disappeared into the kitchen.

When the door swung shut behind her, Keith practically melted into his seat and laid his chin in his folded arms on the table with a sigh. For a moment, Lance thought he was going to go to sleep right there at the table.

“‘S that look for?” Keith peaked at Lance through one half closed eye.

Lance wasn't aware that he’d been staring. But he wasn't gonna let Keith know that. He blinked a few times and daftly plucked the small drink menu from the table where it sat with the condiments. “Nothing.” he opened it and started at the pictures before looking at Keith above the menu. “You just order food like you’re a garbage truck.”

Keith squinted at Lance, feigning irritation before tilting his head so that his cheek laid against his arm and laughed.

“Here we are, boys.”

They turned at their mention. They waitress had returned with the waters and tall milkshake. She dished out the food quickly then placed a hand on her hip. “Your burgers will be out shortly.” She dashed off again.

Even coming early didn't allow them to avoid a wait. Lance sighed and ripped the paper from his straw.

“You aren't gonna drink your shake?” Keith sucked down some water.

“Everyone knows you don't drink your shake until you get your fries.”

Keith groaned in annoyance, falling back against the booth with a half smile on his face. “Sorry but if you're telling me that you're one of those people who puts their fries in their ice cream then we cannot be co -workers anymore.”

“I'm not worried,” With one finger, Lance scooped at the swirl of whipped cream and licked his finger. “I was a successful businessman before you came and I'll be one once you're gone.”

Keith’s grin widened around the edge of his glass as he lifted it to his lips. Lance’s insides churned at Keith’s low voice, “I’ll just have to go solo.”

For a brief moment Lance could already see a small portion of his hard -earned money going into whatever tip jar Keith operated, how quickly that could spiral his financial situation, and potentially cut his views down because truth be told, his follower count had climbed significantly since he and Keith had partnered up. _Lord have mercy_. “There's absolutely no way you could compete against me. I’d destroy you.”  

Keith’s face twitched into something smug. Before he could make the comment Lance knew to be dancing behind that smile, the waitress returned yet again with their food in tow, dispelling the odd flirting that had begun. Was that what it was? Keith Kogane? Flirting with him? The steaming plate of food was sat before him and Lance had never been so happy to shovel French fries into his face hole in his life. And yes, the first one he dipped into his milk shake, purposely getting Keith’s attention and reveling in the way his nose turned up just slightly before putting the fry into his mouth.

“You should tryyyyyyy iiiiiiiit~” Lance sang, waving another dairy coated fry carefully.

Keith tore into his burger before giving a curt shake of his head. “Not in this lifetime or the next.”

“Fine.” Lance pouted. “More for me. _But,_ since you clearly like bacon, you have to try this.” He pointed at the little container of aioli resting on his plate.

Again, Keith’s face scrunched. “What is it exactly?”

“Oh come on, you can’t eat like a heathen and be picky too!” Lance snorted. “Just try it. I swear you won’t regret it.”   

Skepticism was written all over Keith’s face but he relented with a sigh and motioned for Lance to hand him the cup. Lance excitedly complied and eagerly watched with wide blue eyes as Keith tilted the cup around. “It doesn't even move in the container what _is it?_ ”

“Try. It.”

Keith rolled his eyes and used a fry to scoop out the contents and tentatively took a bite. Lance leaned forward, elbows on the table holding his chin and drummed his fingers against his cheekbones with rapt curiosity. “Well?” he watched Keith chew and swallow.

“It’s… not bad actually.”  And then he dipped his fry again.

“Hey, wait. That's actually expensive! You have to share.” Lance reached over the table, but Keith dodged, moving his arms just out of reach.

“It’s 75 cents a cup Keith!” Lance whined.  

And Keith did not give the aioli back.

An hour of laughing and six more cups of bacon aioli later, they had finished their food. Honestly Lance was sure their waitress, despite all of her warmness, was probably ready for her tip and for the two of them to get out already. They had been entirely too loud more than a few times. They even argued over who was going to pay the bill. Keith refused to let him since Lance had spent so much money on the hotel but Lance insisted on leaving the tip. Keith paid with the table card reader and then excused himself to the bathroom.

Lance fished a ten dollar bill from his wallet and folded it over before sitting it under a salt shaker for the waitress to find later.

“So how have you two been together?”

Lance nearly jumped out of his skin. The waitress stood beside him collecting their plates in her arms with a smile.

“Us?” Lance choked out. “We uh - we’re not.” But that wasn't entirely true was it?  Keith’s words from the night before played over in his head, ending his response before he could finish it. That kiss. His heart fluttered. This was a date after all, regardless of whether or not the thought had occurred to him _during._ That was what Keith had said after all. Keith had _paid_ for their lunch. Fought him to do so. That qualified as a date right?

She only nodded with a drawn out _‘mmmhm’_.

“We’re just friends that’s all.” Lance closed up his wallet and shoved it into his pocket.

“Well, I wish I had someone cute like that to be ‘just friends’ with.” she quoted Lance, who forced a nervous laugh, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She winked and walked off just as Keith walked out of the bathroom.

“What was that about?” Keith asked as Lance scrambled out of the booth seat.

Lance didn’t answer, just grabbed Keith’s wrist and pushed past a large group of students out to the parking lot where they piled into the car and headed out on the road. A hush fell over the car with nothing but the soft melodies of the radio playing between the two of them. Lance wondered as his eyes fell on Keith’s hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, if after all of the banter in the restaurant that Keith was just being his usual quiet self. Lance turned his gaze back to the window and worried at the nail of his thumb and watched the world outside fly past in a blur. Car silence was nice, in fact he had come to really enjoy and expect that with Keith, but something in the back of his mind kept tugging and pulling at him. A question that had been on his mind since the very beginning. He had danced around it, trying to figure out how and when to ask but he’d just never gotten around to it. Lance turned in his seat. “Keith, why did you want to do this?”

“What? Get lunch so early?”

“No,” Lance rolled his eyes. “This, the cam show.”

Keith didn’t answer, his grip on the wheel suddenly turning his knuckles white. He had stiffened up, eyes focused on the road as if Lance wouldn’t notice the blush madly streaking across his face. It took him a couple of seconds to tear his eyes away from the attractive sharp angle of Keith’s jaw in profile, but even the tensing of his shoulders looked attractive in the front seat of his powerful Mustang.

Lance cleared his throat, shifting his thighs against the quality leather of the passenger seat, opting for a different question instead of forcing an answer from Keith, “So  - uh. D...Does Shiro know about us? Us camming I mean, obviously. Um.”

“Why would Shiro know anything about my sex life?”

Lance pursed his lips in thought. He had figured Shiro would know everything about Keith. There wasn’t really anyone else he talked to after all. Well, there was Pidge and as close as the two of them were, Lance doubted she would know such intimate topics. Finally, he shrugged dramatically. “Allura knows about mine.”

“Allura’s not your sister though.”

The smile on Lance’s face dropped. “Of course not!” he shrieked, placing an open palm against his chest “I’d never dance with any of my sisters like that!” Lance sank back into the leather.

Keith laughed and it sounded like the trumpets at the heavenly gates, effectively turning Lance’s face into a red flag.

“Regardless, I’d still tell her everything. A confidant is important, ya know?” Lance began to ramble, a lump of guilt lodged in his throat. How was he pushing the idea of a confidant when he hadn’t even told Allura or Hunk about Keith? Here he was, sitting in the car so many people on campus groaned about wanting to be in, _himself included_ , without his friends knowing where he even was for that matter? While his head had been dissolving into the thick acid of guilt, his mouth had gone on its own tangent.

“When I was back home, before I moved out here, everyone told everyone everything in my house. My mom had a nose for secrets, we couldn’t hide _anything_ from her.”  
  
Keith’s eyebrows raised, a small quirk of his lips on his profile, “That’s crazy. I couldn’t do that.”

Lance sputtered, his heart caught between the smirk and the implication, “Well - I mean, we weren’t all bad boys back then Keith! I had so many younger siblings I couldn’t even leave my room without someone telling my mom about it.”  
  
“That sounds busy, how many siblings do you have?”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the curiosity on Keith’s face. The small spark of interest in those dark eyes, and the fidget he made when Lance didn’t reply right away.

“I have two older sisters, Marta and Triz, and Javier, Marta’s husband - they live with us,” He continued, popping up his fingers as he went through the names, “Triz is only one year older, then Sergio is one year younger. Mark and Liliana are the youngest, my _t_ _í_ _a_ takes care of them usually. She lives with us too, and my grandparents are just across the way. There’s ten of us at the house including me and my parents. God, sorry that was a lot -”  
  
“No,” Keith shook his head hard, “no, it’s nice… hearing about your family. They sound great.”

The lump in his throat was back, not guilt this time but something else. He cleared his throat, “Well… How about your family? Where are they from?”  
  
Apparently that was a wrong thing to say. Keith flexed his visibly tense fingers around the leather steering wheel, making sticky sweat sounds to fill the silence. Lance’s mind raced with curse words, clenching his jaw and trying not to give into the impulse of smashing his forehead on the console for ruining the already awkward moment of him rambling about his family with an invasion on Keith’s obviously tense family situation. How could he? Acting naive around Keith was becoming a fucking constant, as if he was a little kid, and now he just messed up their date with -

“I don’t want to bring down the mood.” Keith croaked.

He whipped around to look at Keith so quickly his forehead throbbed and a painful pinch twisted in his neck. “No! No, you won’t. I want to know about them.”

Keith nodded slowly, “Okay… We’re from Texas. Lived with my mom and dad for a bit while Shiro went off to college. It was cool until high school… I wasn’t the best kid. My parents were going through issues and divorced pretty early into sophomore year. My dad… went off the deep end. He was a good dad, but he just lost his way when my mom left. I got my GED as soon as I could and moved in with Shiro.”  
  
A small smile peaked on his lips, “It was crazy. Felt like I was in college without even enrolling. Shiro brought me to all his frat parties when he was an undergrad. Different parties every night, ragers all weekend. They weren’t good times in hindsight, seems drinking problems run in our family. But the way we could drain entire kegs by ourselves - it was insane.”

His jaw was on the floor. He was on the floor practically, staring at Keith. The Keith that never showed up to anything, never partied, never even socially interacted with people on campus. It was a major feat in itself to have Keith Kogane come to the party Hunk’s frat threw - it was the talk of campus for weeks. Now he knew why.

“You partied your freshie years out before even enrolling!” He barked, snorting laughter, “Oh my god! I was pouring tears over the SATs and you were railing twinks!”  
  
Keith went pink, sputtering but Lance just kept going.  
  
“I’m mad! Why couldn’t I see that?! I would love seeing Keith Kogane chugging a keg in frat boy attire. My god -”  
  
“You would not want to see that -” Keith cut in, stern and still pink, eyebrows twitching and glancing from the road to Lance.

“What? Yes I would!” Lance shot back, grinning wider, “High school Lance would cream his pants thinking about that.”  
  
Keith loudly groaned, turning beet red now and running one of his hands through his hair. The flustered magenta on his cheeks was cute as always, and Lance’s laughter was too contagious for Keith’s lips not to be tugging back and laughing too.  
  
Lance flopped back in the passenger seat, letting the laugh trail off and smiling small down at his lap. “I would’ve loved to see that Keith. I want to see that Keith… I want to see all the Keiths.”

This silence was heavy with implication, dusted by the flirtiness, by the heartfelt seriousness of that sentence. He could easily reach out, take it back, tuck it away so it wouldn’t feel like a weight was drifting over them  - but he didn’t. The gentle kiss last night was not nothing, and his statement was not nothing either. And as scary as it seemed, it felt so right to say those words to Keith and to feel Keith’s eyes on him.  
  
_I want this to mean something._

They pulled up to Lance’s and Hunks shared dorm in that heavy silence, and ever the gentleman, regardless of whatever dumb thing Lance had said, Keith helped Lance unload his stuff to carry it up. Hunk wasn’t home, probably out with his frat brothers or with Pidge if not in class. Which was nice because Lance didn’t feel like answering any questions. He followed Keith back out to the car. They stopped by the driver’s side door and -

Stood there?

Keith with his hands in his pockets, Lance kicking at the gravel with the tip of his sneaker but no one said anything and no one really moved. It was almost as heavy as that night on the balcony after Lance’s dance. Lance rubbed the back of his arm with his opposite hand and watched Keith lean back against the car door.

“Thanks for uh,” Lance pointed vaguely back at the door and smiled. “For helping me. And for lunch. It was nice.”   _It was nice???_ Could he possibly sound dumber?

“Yeah, it’s no problem.” Keith murmured, raising to scratch his neck. Lance kicked the ground with his sneaker again and his entire body went rigid as the tip of his foot caught on Keith’s. Keith was leaning closer, so was he.

“Sorry.” It sounded so fake, so weak as he watched the space between them disappear.

The kiss landed on the corner of Keith’s mouth. He could feel Keith’s lips part, hear a shaky breath from them but as he leaned back, teeth against the plump of his bottom lip until it slipped free, he smiled. “Drive safe okay?”

Keith’s dark lashes fluttered, cheeks flushed and voice gravelly. “Yeah, I’ll text you when I get home.”

He watched Keith’s car pull out from the lobby, seeing it turn down the street and even waiting until the red light turned green before going back up to his dorm.

 

* * *

 

**Pidge**

_Are you dating Lance McClain?_

He stared down at the text message blearily, eyes squinting in the low light of his living room. It was close to 3 pm but he had been so exhausted the last weekend he crashed on the couch and slept through his 1:15 class. After unraveling himself from the death grip of the pillows, the back of his head screaming in the realization that the armrest on the couch was not at all comfortable for any amount of time spent lent against him, he was definitely not prepared for that notification to be the first he saw on his blue lit phone screen.

Maybe an email confirmation for some cat stuff he bought on Amazon or a text message from Shiro telling him to wake up, but absolutely not Pidge asking him if he was dating Lance McClain.

 _No_  
  
What the fuck?

He didn’t even care she had sent that around 1:30, probably in the heat of the lecture he had missed and maybe bored out of her mind  - to the point she would entertain such a crazy notion? Fuck he was too out of it to process this.

Keith swung his legs off the couch, standing up to the blood rush of his brain. The second his pajama pants hit the floor, Redrum came running. The long haired black cat wove through his feet with earth -shattering purrs, tail flicking upwards. He lazily reached down to rub at the base of her tail, escaping from her hold on his legs enough for him to start toward the bathroom. His phone vibrated in his hand.

_You took him to Red Robin_

_What_

_How_ _  
_ _…_

_I don’t know what you’re talking about_

His head was pounding with a migraine now, struggling to comprehend how in the world Pidge knew that he and Lance went to some dinky fast food place at 10 am when she never woke up before noon. He padded into the bathroom and opened the cabinet mirror to shuffle through prescription bottles for some excedrin. Maybe anxiety meds if he had any left. His phone vibrated again, and he resorted to absentmindedly sorting through the cabinet as he read Pidge’s texts.

 _Shall I review the evidence?!_  
  
Not only was he seen with your favorite leather jacket the night of his midterm, at approximately 8 minutes past 10:00 pm looking like a blushing bride but Hunk’s frat sub saw you and him having breakfast this morning  
  
Where you were both conveniently absent the night previous from our ritual Mario Kart Tournaments  
  
AND you drive him everywhere! I’ve never even touched your car!!

He dropped to the floor, leaning on his heels to push his head against the cold column of the sink. Redrum wound herself in tiny figure eights around his limbs, mewling needily. His head throbbed with all of Pidge’s blurry text messages. How much did she know? Enough that they were involved obviously, and all the ‘evidence’ pointed to them in a relationship because logistically that was more common than… being co -stars in a cam show. He groaned audibly, and Redrum chimed in with a great meow.

 _Hunk’s little_  
  
They’re called littles  
  
Not subs

Pidge’s all caps-locked response of _IRRELEVANT!_ hit his lockscreen but he didn’t even bother to open the notification. Instead he stayed crouched on his bathroom floor, twisting off the excedrin cap and popped a pill into his palm. Redrum sneaked close to sniff at it cautiously before he dry -swallowed it, or attempted to because of course he started to cough. Just his luck. Foggily he raised his head and went to stand, just to grab the empty glass on the counter and sip some water, but the angle was wrong and he crashed his head into the underside of the sink basin and stumbled back, cursing the whole way.

He groaned heavily, rising slowly and holding the throbbing back of his head. His eyes scrunched tight, Keith let his phone down on the counter and went to the sink to splash some water on his face - to wake him up enough to stop causing bodily damage to himself when the front door latch opened.

Keith raised his head, eyes still slit tiredly. It had to be Shiro, but ever since months prior when Shiro had started up a nasty habit of walking in on Keith during the worst possible times, he had started to announce his arrival into the apartment. Instead Keith heard nothing, just a thump before the louder and faster sound of footfalls until his brother stood, winded and frazzled, in the doorway of the bathroom.

Keith stared at him in the mirror. Shiro was wearing a white button down with a tie, and his hair had been gelled but now flew everywhere. He was red in the face and stood awkwardly like there was a coat hanger behind his shoulder blades.  
  
“I need girl advice.”

Keith blinked.

“Uh - _love_ advice.” Shiro clarified.

Water dripped from the sides of his stubbly face as he squinted as his brother. The sophisticated, cool exterior everyone seemed to adore about Shiro broke down so easily when he was around people he knew, it was almost a vaudeville act. Keith tiredly scrubbed at his eyes, pulling at his face before dropping his hand.

“Why ask me?” He muttered, turning back to the cabinet to shuffle through prescription bottles once more.

“You’re dating someone, aren’t you?”

Redrum streaked out of the bathroom with a yowl as most of the contents of the medicine cabinet went flying. Keith cursed hard, scrambling to catch the pill bottles and items he had sent sprawling. A pill bottle went rolling behind the toilet, floss and toothpaste ricocheting off the tile floor and against the wall. He busied himself with picking everything up, leaving the heartbeat in his throat echoing.

“Why would you think that?” He grumbled, rolling his hand through the front of his bangs.

Shiro had shifted from standing to leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with a sly smile on his face, “You dress up more. You’re always in a good mood. Don’t think I don’t notice you stealing my aftershave lately.”

He cleared his throat, popping a pill and swallowing it dry. He shifted from foot to foot before going to pass Shiro out of the bathroom, “Well I’m not, so…”

Keith tried to escape to the kitchen or his bedroom but Shiro was on his heels in the hallway. “Pidge talks about you driving a guy around all the time.”

Mentally he cursed out his younger friend. He _did not_ want to have this conversation with his older brother. Knowing the type of person Shiro was, it would just turn into a lecture of safe sex and internet privacy and god knows what else -

He dragged his hands down his face, turning into the kitchen, “I want a bowl. You wanna hit a bowl, Shiro? I’m really feeling like -”

“Keith.”

His tone was pure adulthood in a bundle of gentle but firm chastising and prying, like Keith had just gotten suspended for breaking Anthony Snyder’s ugly Quarterback nose in junior year for the second time. He sank into one of the stools at the kitchen island, elbows on the marble to hold his face in his hands.

The first time he said it, it was mumbled into his palms.

Shiro made the soft noise their father would do before telling them to ‘speak up, soldier’ and he tore his hands away from his face to look at his brother.

“Lance McClain and I… we’ve been hanging out.” He huffed, watching Shiro’s eyebrows disappear as he leaned in on the island across from Keith, “We’re not together! We’re just… I dunno.”

Shiro could barely hide his smile, lips twitching with the effort. Keith tapped his fingertips on the marble in annoyance, watching his brother go around the island to the fridge. He pulled two cans of beer from the fridge, the usual local IPA for both of them and slid it over. Keith caught it in his palm, popping open the tab as Shiro pulled out another stool. The first sip was washed with irritation, watching the smug look of Takashi curl and fester on his cool face.

“Hanging out?”

His fingers bit into the tin of the can, taking a hard full gulp and grinding his teeth. Keith muttered lowly, “We… do stuff.”

The grin turned wider around his own can, eyebrows lifting higher into his white fringe as Shiro shifted forward and peered closer at Keith.

“Stuff.”

Keith groaned loudly, slamming down his can and tearing at his hair.  “We hook up sometimes! Jesus Shiro! What do you want from me?! A fuckin’ play-by-play?!”

At his reckless angry burst, Takashi only sipped his beer. He had the upper hand, and Keith knew it by the heat on his ears. He ran a hand through his hair, reaching back for his beer can and watching Redrum slither under the coffee table in the living room. She tended to do that when she heard his yelling. A prickle of guilt caught on his skin.

“You like him.”  
  
He couldn’t deny it, didn’t even want to yell about it or snap at his brother again. It was becoming painfully obvious that he liked Lance McClain - whether he wanted to say it out loud or not. Pidge always caught onto things, but his own thickheaded, oblivious brother Takashi noticing him sneaking aftershave and wearing the joggers he knew hugged his legs a little nicer all the time? That was bad. He had it bad.  
  
He had it so bad for Lance McClain.

The little looks between them, the natural laughter at lunch. The tiny touches, the casual kiss from last night, from only a couple of hours ago when he dropped Lance off. Their sex was amazing, astounding, satisfying but they had so much fun together. He could see Lance in the corner of his eye and feel his heart float. He take in the air that Lance let out and fill his chest with him - like light was seeping into a cave and he was the dust swirling in its golden heat.

“I’m getting poetic.” He said around the beer can, gulping down enough to burn. When had he ever felt like this?

Takashi left the kitchen island and brought back with him their bong. The bowl was packed and the window was opened, and he had sunk back into the stool like he was melting. Was it really an hour later suddenly?  
  
“- and her laugh,” Takashi groaned, pink in the face and smiling wistfully as he placed his fourth empty can next to their combined growing pile, “her fucking laugh! Its musical. How do I even suggest her getting with me?”  
  
His last hit of the bong was stuck in his throat and he coughed, waving at the air. “You’re already going on dates with her. Why’s this so hard for you? You’re not ugly.”  
  
Takashi leaned down to place his chin on the marble, “Why’s this so hard for you?! Ugly.”

Keith threw up his hands, “I take it back! You’re fucking ugly.”

“Don’t be a child!” Takashi chided, grabbing at the bong and bringing it to his lips.

“I’m a child?! Did you just hear yourself? It’s harder for me, you just like complaining,” Keith tipped the last of his beer into his mouth, sloshing it before choking it down, “We started out fucking, and not even talking, and you have it the perfect way. You’re hanging out with her, talking. I _just_ told him about Dad!”

Takashi raised an eyebrow, pulling back from the mouth of the bong and blowing out, leaving the stem cloudy. “You told him about Dad?”  
  
Keith hissed in annoyance, snatching the bong, “Don’t leave it cloudy, wimp. Yeah I did.” He pressed the bong to his lips and cleared the smoke. Takashi didn’t reply. Redrum’s little cloud of fur on the couch distracted him from turning to his brother, absently placing the bong aside before doing so. Shiro looked at him seriously, lips pursed together.

“You’ve never told anyone about Dad.”

Keith didn’t have anything to say to that.

“Keith, you didn’t even tell Pidge about Dad. Matt and I told her.”

He shrugged, “It’s no big deal. We were talking about our families.” It wasn’t a big deal, not really. Pidge had never prompted it, and Lance had. It was different. Pidge would’ve known one way or another, it wasn’t like Takashi was never going to tell her. Was it so important that he told Lance? He didn’t think so. His mind was so hazy, Redrum was beginning to look like a cinnamon roll.

Takashi leaned back, popping open a new beer can and looking at Keith with a tilted expression, “Okay… Well, how often are you with Lance?”

“Pretty regularly,” He muttered, watching his cat rearrange herself to stretch her paws out, “At least a handful of times a month… Kinda have to keep up with a schedule.”  
  
“What?”

He chewed on his bottom lip, rolling his shoulders, “Like, uh, we didn’t start fucking just for it. I mean, kind of? For me, it’s like that. But he does a show to keep up with payments for his loans.”

There was a long pause. He clarified, “Like a cam show. On Pornhub.”

Takashi slowly, so slowly, lifted his hands to cover his face, leaning further and further back on his stool. Keith fled to the fridge, searching for a new can of beer as slowly, his brother groaned louder and louder.

“UuuuuuGHHHH KEITH!” Takashi slapped the marble, Keith hunching his shoulders to his ears immediately, “I know you’re a damn adult but are you serious?! What about your professional jobs? What if an employer sees? You’re really doing this?!”

He nodded, cracking open the can and sitting down to taking some beefy chugs. Takashi groaned more, grabbing and tugging at his hair.

“I can’t believe it,” His brother muttered, tugging at his face, “I mean it’s fucked that’s how Lance has to do this in order to keep up on payments like what kind of world are we in? Just… keep your faces covered okay?”  
  
Keith nodded again, gulping hard. It was probably best not to tell Shiro the extent of how much was on display, and how much exactly Lance’s audience had seen of him. There was a faint vibration in his joggers, and he fished out his phone as Takashi continued to blather on and on about precautions. He spied the notification, a vivid _What are you doing?_ on his bright screen and he went to close the phone completely without answering, thinking it was Pidge, when he saw the name.

Lance.

He swiped into the chat quickly, placing down his can and standing up.

“And you really have to - What?” Takashi cut, standing up and leaning over the counter to looking, upside down, at Keith’s phone. He snatched it away, ignoring his brother’s, his older - supposedly more mature brother’s - indigent whine as he padded away from the kitchen and into the living room, still staring at his phone.

 _Hanging out with my brother_ _  
_

_Why?_

Nice and smooth - really friendly too. He groaned to himself, plopping down on the couch and startling Redrum out of her doze. Why couldn’t he communicate normally with Lance? Why was it all extremes? Why was he personally just all extremes?

_Cool didn’t mean to interrupt_

_Allura got a new job at this club and she gets free admission for this weekend for two friends_ _  
_

_Hunk has work_ _  
_

_Do you wanna come?_

A club. He bit his bottom lip, abusing it gently as he stared down at the texts. Takashi walked past, heading to his bedroom at the end of the hall.

“If you don’t go, I will!” He called, chuckling as he shut his door. Keith rolled his eyes.

_Yes_

_I do_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back :D - J
> 
> Mai's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/Y8Y0DXKE)  
> Jubi's [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A348K4O)

**Author's Note:**

> reviews keep the thirst alive ❤
> 
>  
> 
> [maireep](http://www.maireep.tumblr.com)  
> [jubileeart](http://www.jubileeart.tumblr.com)


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